The Dance
by FanFicLove101
Summary: Everyone loves a dance, will you? A tango between our characters, MM/HG fanfic, please read the note above the title! R&R?
1. Chapter 1

_I own absolutely none of these characters, I truly wish I could say I did!_

_This story is set in Hermione's seventh year, away from the whole Voldemort thing :)_

_Enjoy, ok? :)_

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><p><strong>The Dance.<strong>

**Chapter One  
><strong>

"Oh, Hermione! Don't even get me friggin' started!"

Ron's voice echoed throughout the crisp clear night as he bellowed after Hermione. She stomped her feet away from the castle, already feeling the chill hit her core that caused goose pimples to rise on her arms.

"Go away, Ron! I don't even want to look at you right now!" Hermione shouted flinging her arms in the air.

She hadn't looked back once since storming from The Great Hall; she worried the mere sight of the ginger haired boy would cause her to curse him to hell with her wand. Her heart hammered painfully against her chest, the cold evening air not helping the sensation.

"Then what, Hermione?" Ron yelled, matching her speed and following her, "You just expect me to stand by while you make a...a..."

"A what, Ron? A tart? A whore of myself?"

Hermione rounded on the boy, and he abruptly came to a halt as her severe and angry stare met his.

"No, not that for Christ sake! You just can't expect me to not say anything when you're gyrating against another guy in the middle of the dance floor for everyone to see..." Ron replied through gritted teeth.

"THEN ASK ME RONALD!" Hermione shouted, her voice breaking. "You missed your chance at The Yule Ball; I would have half expected you to have at least tried to talk to me about it. If you won't ask me, then don't expect me to hold back as if we have gone together. I'm my own person Ron; I can do whatever the hell I like!"

Ron looked at Hermione, stunned. He laughed horribly and looked away, covering his mouth and shaking his head.

"You know, Hermione? You really are something else sometimes..." He guffawed.

"I can take care of myself." Hermione muttered.

"You call having his hands roaming all over your body, practically feeling you up... That's you protecting yourself?" Ron challenged, his hand splayed back towards the castle where they had been.

"What did you expect me to do, Ron? Not enjoy myself?" Hermione asked.

"No, I expected you to be a lady!" Ron snapped.

A loud, echoing crack sounded into the night. Ron held his cheek as Hermione's hand was still in mid air, almost willing him to say something else to receive another blow.

"How dare you." She snarled through pursed lips.

Ron's cheek had immediately gone red on his pale freckled face; a clear print of Hermione's hand embedded onto him. He looked toward her for sympathy, but received nothing in return.

"Hermione, look..." Ron began.

"Don't bother; you've made it rather clear what you think of me."

Hermione scowled evilly, her eyes as dark as the night. Her pupils had widened in her anger and her brows furrowed so much they started to meet in the middle.

"I didn't mean for it to come out that way." He exclaimed quietly, widening his eyes and looking at the ground.

Hermione blinked in disbelief, shaking her head and turning around slowly to walk once more.

"Don't even think about following me." She spat over her shoulder as she heard his footsteps once again, "I want nothing to do with you."

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><p><em>AN: Please will you let me know what you think so far?_


	2. Chapter 2

_I own none of these characters!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

Feeling much better, Minerva smiled and sighed contentedly. The ball had been exquisite, however the music the young people of today decided on listening to did insist on giving her a pounding headache. She endured all she could, until she felt as if her eardrums were to burst; then she stepped outside for some quiet time and a short walk alone through the grounds of Hogwarts. The stars were shining brightly, the full moon layering a beautiful light across the whole world. Minerva plunged her hands deeply into her outer robe as she looked up into the wonderfully lit sky, breathing into her lungs deeply.

Shouting nearby broke her thoughts of humbleness, however she wasn't provoked. There were always going to be arguments at parties and Minerva seemed used to the sound with so many children to teach, punish and sympathise with at Hogwarts. It became the normal seeing boys and girls of all ages crying in front of her, whether it was their latest love or the forgetting of their homework. However, on hearing the argument, she felt she ought to interject to perhaps help the heated situation.

The elderly witch started to stroll at a pace, rounding a corner that would take her to the path that led her back to Hogwarts; the argument, now silent, seemed to be coming from that direction. As she did so, she was invited by the sight of a girl sitting alone on an elegant metal bench. The girl was evidently crying, however these tears were of silent hurt that radiated out of her body and to Minerva. The young witch didn't look up at the hearing of Minerva's footsteps; her head bent low looking at her hands in a false fascination to disguise the droplets of sadness now rolling down her cheeks. Minerva frowned, pursing her lips together and sighing deeply.

She knew it to be Hermione Granger.

"You'll catch your death out here." Minerva spoke quietly, still standing a few metres behind the white painted bench.

Hermione didn't look up, or even appear startled at the sudden company of her Transfiguration Professor.

"Maybe it would be the wisest thing to do..." Hermione muttered in reply.

Minerva stayed staring at Hermione for a few more seconds, thinking quickly and deeply of how to comfort her bright and talented student without her feeling patronised or angered more so. As Minerva strode slowly toward the bench, Hermione remained resolutely looking into her hands.

"May I join you?" Minerva asked softly, pulling her right hand out of her pocket and pointing her index finger at the space next to the young girl.

Hermione raised her eyes quickly to her Professor and then looked away, the corners of her mouth beginning to tremble as she nodded silently in response to the kind and thoughtful gesture.

Minerva settled herself lightly on the bench, looking out across the vast expanse of darkened green grass. She took in the sight feeling now was a time for silence and thought rather than to ram the girl full of anecdotes and advice. She sighed deeply once more, enjoying the feeling of the cold air in her lungs. Minerva kept her eyes away from Hermione, knowing how embarrassing it can be to have your Professor watching you spill out your hurt and anger. She glanced sideways at Hermione's hands that were cradling each other softly.

"What a beautiful night, but so cold!" Minerva spoke, bunching her shoulders up to her ears. "Here."

Pulling her right hand once again from her pocket, Minerva produced a pair of green leather gloves and handed them in the direction of Hermione. She waited a few seconds for the girl to accept her offering; she had noticed her student's hands turning blue.

Hermione slowly raised her icy cold finger tips, placing them gently over the bundled up gloves that led in Minerva's hands. As she gripped them painfully due to the chill that had set into her joints, Hermione's hand brushed the elders, feeling her warmth from the bottom of her outer robe pocket. Hermione inhaled sharply at the change in temperature, suddenly realising how cold she had let herself get. The warmth, however, was still insulated on the gloves as she placed them over her hands, muttering a quiet thank you into her lap.

"You're welcome." Minerva nodded.

For a while they sat in complete silence once again, as Minerva churned over and over in her head what to say. Hermione wiped tears from her eyes, the green leather gloves now glistening in the moonlight.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" Minerva asked gently, turning her whole body toward the slumping girl at the other end.

Looking up, Hermione just shook her head in dismissal.

"Is it your studies?" Minerva enquired softly.

Hermione shook her head.

"Is it one of the teachers that has upset you?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Well then, is it something that has happened tonight?"

Hermione hesitated and raised her eyebrows.

"Is it... something to do with a boy?"

Hermione's eyebrows began to come together, her face contorting.

"Is it to do with a particular boy by the name of Ronald Weasley?"

Hermione looked down, her bottom lip tucked tightly under her teeth to stop it from trembling. Tears rolled down the pale face, her shoulders shuddering slightly as she wept.

Minerva looked at the poor thing in sympathy, pursing her lips gently and shaking her head.

"Hermione... There are many things you will learn as you become an older witch, and one of those things is that sometimes, wizards can be..."

"I just wanted to dance..." Hermione whispered.

Minerva stopped mid-sentence not expecting Hermione to speak for a long while yet.

"What was that, dear?" Minerva asked quietly, moving a bit closer to Hermione.

The young witch sighed.

"I just wanted to be asked to dance, and I couldn't even get that from one of my best friends." Hermione squeaked the last word, her sentence ending in a stream of tears.

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><p><em>AN: Hope this is going ok?_


	3. Chapter 3

_I own absolutely none of these characters... Darn..._

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

It was very rarely that Minerva McGonagall got caught off guard, so this was truly a time for remembrance.

Watching as Hermione Granger cried before her, Minerva literally had nothing prepared for the statement that had just been presented. The elder witch hadn't really seen the younger all evening, which seemed to explain itself a lot now.

"Have you been hiding away all of this time?" Minerva asked gently.

"Yes." Hermione squeaked, bringing her eyes to look out across the landscape once again. "In the girls bathroom... Third floor."

"Ah." Minerva confirmed, nodding her head slowly in understanding.

"It wasn't until Parvati came to tell me Ron wanted to talk to me that I came out."

Minerva's eyes stayed engaged upon the young girl, softening her stern look to a face of concern and empathy.

"Would you like to talk to me about it?" Minerva enquired, hoping the offer would be greeted warmly.

Hermione looked down into her wringed hands that were now becoming warmer from the gloves. She glanced hesitantly at her Professor a couple of times, ensuring she wasn't to burst into laughter. Knowing she could trust Minerva, with a deep sigh she began.

"I'd been having a terrible evening. No one had commented on my dress, my hair, my shoes or my makeup. I've spent hours getting ready only for people to glance past me as they always do. I tried to talk to Harry, but he was far too interested in Ginny to notice what I was saying, and Ron, well," She waved her hand dismissively in front of her, "He was off sulking somewhere, I don't know... I couldn't find him even after coming out from the girl's bathroom on _his_ request. Anyway, a Sixth year boy called Darwin Heedy... You know him?"

Minerva nodded in response, humming a quiet "_mm-hmm"_ in her throat.

"Of course you do..." Hermione laughed, feeling stupid, "Darwin happened to be standing beside me watching the dancing crowd as I was. All of a sudden I found myself led by my hand to the dance floor, being held by my hips and being forced to move in time with him. At first I felt embarrassed; it's so unlike me to dance so provocatively and I could already feel eyes honing in on me. But then I thought, no Hermione, you haven't been asked to dance all evening; if this is the only chance you will get, take it.

The rhythm began to take hold of me, and I found myself smiling and even enjoying myself as Darwin and I danced. After a while I gained confidence to break free from Darwin's hold; I twirled around with my arms up in the air to come face-to-face with Ron who had that evil stare he has whenever he feels threatened. I was angry at him for disheartening my lively mood and the one dance I had actually been asked...Well, not exactly _asked_: _Dragged _to do.

I immediately knew where the conversation was to turn, so I made quickly for the front gates to be alone. But, like so many times, Ron will follow and argue."

Minerva kept inside all she wanted to say, wishing not to interrupt Hermione through her speech. Minerva longed to gasp and verbally put the down the boy who had treated a woman in such a manner, but knew a lot better.

"So, Mr Weasley was jealous that you were dancing with another boy?" Minerva asked as placidly as she could, scratching the side of her head gently, her hair in a low loose braid hanging over her right shoulder, to deter from her cold tone.

"Of course he was. Ronald can be so proud and stubborn and he immediately presumes that everyone should be able to understand what he is thinking and how he is feeling without him actually saying it."

"Don't we all know it..." The elderly witch laughed shortly.

Hermione too smiled, letting an airy laughter pass her lips. She seemed to be drying up a bit which settled Minerva's worrying heart.

"Ron never seems to understand me, no matter how I try and explain things to him. All I wanted was for someone, even if it was one of my two best friends who did it out of pity and kindness, to comment on how I looked, and just to ask me for one twirl around the dance floor. And I don't mean jiving, I don't mean grinding, I mean _a proper dance_."

Hermione pounded her hands gently on her lap as she made her points, the leather gloves against her flowing silk gown making a dull thud.

Minerva cleared her throat, leaning forward and positioning herself differently on the very cold metal bench. She looked back at Hermione, who laughed shortly through her nose, shook her head and looked back down once again at her ever entwining hands. Minerva's heart went out to the girl who sat glumly alone on such a joyous evening of festivities. Her mind was rattling through all of her years of experience with students at Hogwarts, and not one compared to this situation. There was only one thing she could think of doing, but surely Hermione would refuse? How could Minerva even think that such a young, talented, pretty thing such as Hermione Granger would accept the invitation that was playing around in her head since the beginning of Hermione's out-pour?

"Well," Minerva began, breathing deeply into her lungs and placing her hands onto her knees, "I too have been void of a dance partner tonight. So..."

Minerva stood, facing toward Hermione. She outstretched her hand; palm facing upward and her fingers gently offering. Hermione watched as her Professor rose from her seat and now glanced from the open hand into her teacher's eyes. She felt awkward and self conscious, but a smile broke across Minerva's face.

"Would you like to dance, Hermione?"

Minerva's heart began to race as an unsure expression flashed across Hermione's face. Just when she thought that she had possibly made the biggest mistake in her whole teaching career, a soft leathered hand was placed gently into her own.

"I'd love to." Hermione replied.

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><p><em>AN: ;)_


	4. Chapter 4

_Sorry guys, I still don't own any of these characters!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

The air around them seemed to become still as two unsure women took to an empty space of dewy grass to dance.

Minerva led Hermione, her head screaming at her to turn back, to let go of this girl's hand. But her heart said otherwise; and Minerva thought to hell with her mind. She turned herself back toward Hermione who stopped abruptly, looking desperately into the elder witch's eyes for reassurance. Smiling gently, Minerva raised the arm that was gracefully upholding Hermione's hand over the younger witch's head. Hermione spun under her Professors arm, laughing nervously at the absurdity of the situation.

Minerva brought Hermione close to her abruptly, causing a sharp gasp of air to rush from the younger girls lungs in surprise. Her eyes stayed wide and locked upon her Professors as Minerva took her waist; placing Hermione's other hand on the elder witch's shoulder.

A slow waltz rose from the vicinity of the castle.

"I hope you don't mind, I've only ever really been good at The Waltz." Minerva smiled.

Hermione shook her head shyly, pushing her weight to her toes in preparation. Minerva lifted her right leg slowly to indicate to Hermione which foot to lead off and their dance began.

At first, it was rigid and awkward; Minerva hadn't led a dance in years. But soon they were elegantly twirling, Hermione submitting quite willingly to the commands of Minerva's body. The young girl felt light and airy, and graceful, which is one thing she had never felt when dancing. Minerva moved with such ease, and Hermione felt her body flutter.

"Where did you learn to dance?" Hermione piped up, trying to still the beating of her heart that wasn't due to the exercise.

"When I was your age, at Hogwarts," Minerva replied, "We had to; it was a compulsory lesson for girls to learn to dance."

"Who taught you?" Hermione asked breathlessly as Minerva's hand removed from her waist to the small of her back for a better grip.

"A Professor called Albus Dumbledore." Minerva smiled looking into Hermione's eyes.

The young witch smiled back and looked down, knowing she had evidently asked yet another silly question. The song was coming to an end, and Hermione had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach; she was actually quite liking the feeling of being held close, and particularly by the strong yet dainty arms of her Professor.

She scolded herself.

"You do look exceptionally beautiful tonight Hermione." Minerva whispered quietly, looking into the young witch's eyes.

Hermione began to well up, averting her eyes quickly and trying to control herself.

"I mean that, too, not just because you want me to say it. I must assure you, it is most certainly not out of kindness or pity; it is out of honesty. Your dress fits you perfectly, your hair and makeup is wonderful, you practically glow tonight: I do believe this is the most beautiful I have seen you."

Hermione blushed fervently, pursing her lips together to stop them from trembling, and nodding in appreciation.

As the song played its final note, Minerva outstretched her arm to look at the wondrous girl stood before her. She bobbed a small curtsy and Hermione did the same, giggling. Minerva stared into Hermione's eyes as her heart began aching at the space between them, be it only a metre. They stayed looking one another up and down, smiling and laughing shyly, as the band struck up a love ballad.

Hermione dared as she took a step closer, holding Minerva's hands and placing both of them onto the small of her back once more. She wrapped her arms around her Professors neck gently, holding her close as they began to sway back and forth. They stayed silent for the remainder of the dance, their eyes locked together and only broken when Hermione came to rest her head heavily on Minerva's shoulder. The elder witch's left arm snaked slowly over Hermione's back and to her left hip, while her right hand rubbed gently up to her shoulder blades.

Hermione tingled at the sensation of the elder's hands on her body; even the warmth from Minerva's neck on her hands sending her mind reeling over the edge. She wanted nothing more than for this evening to go on as it was, for it to never end and she relished the fact that she could feel and hear Minerva's heart beating as hard as hers was.

The music ended much too soon for both witches, and for a minute or two they just stood, holding each other tight.

Minerva broke free first.

"My goodness, is that the time?" She exclaimed falsely, wishing to delve away from this dangerous situation.

She looked intently at her watch as Hermione's hands released Minerva's neck, her arms hanging dully by her side.

"We probably ought to be going in, it's already 2am."

Hermione nodded glumly as both herself and her Professor started to trudge back to Hogwarts. They both looked at their feet the whole way to the entrance, their hearts heavy.

"Thank you, Hermione, for a wonderful dance." Minerva commented quietly, smiling to herself.

"No, Professor, thank you..." Hermione replied as they came to stand at the top of the steps that opened to the warm castle.

The young girl glanced at the elder witch's lips which were rosy and soft in the moonlight. She immediately looked away as she felt a light blush rising in her cheeks.

"Go to bed, dear." Minerva smiled, placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

They both walked into the entrance hall side by side closely. Minerva bid the young girl a quiet goodnight, a stupid smile gracing her face which she quickly punished herself for. As she watched the young girls slender and perfect figure walk slowly up the stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room, Minerva called.

"Hermione?"

The girl looked over her right shoulder questioningly, their eyes meeting for the last time that evening.

Minerva smiled.

"Keep the gloves."

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><p><em>AN: More to come!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Still don't own any of these characters!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

It had been a couple of days since the dance with Minerva McGonagall, but Hermione Granger was still reeling from the experience. Her body was still tingling, her smile hadn't faded and the gloves she had received now sat pride of place on her bedside table: when she wasn't wearing them of course.

"You and those bloody gloves." Ron commented dully.

Even Ron couldn't diminish her cheery demeanour as they stepped into the warmth and soft light of The Great Hall for lunch. Walking with a spring in her step to join Harry (who had already begun his meal) Hermione scanned the table of teachers. She smiled suddenly as she saw Minerva, left hand placed in her lap, her right picking at what looked like Shepherd's Pie with a fork.

"You alright there, Hermione?" Harry asked, looking up at his friend.

"Yeah." Hermione answered dreamily, seating herself next to him and finally pulling her gaze away.

Ron sat opposite them, scowling with a face like thunder.

"What is with you today?" Ron questioned Hermione with an acid tongue.

"Nothing is 'with me', Ronald."

Hermione avoided his stare as she helped herself to leek and potato soup. Ron still hadn't grasped the concept of not being forgiven yet for his attitude and hurtful words a couple of evenings ago.

"Then why have you been acting all..." He gestured with his hands, twirling his wrists and making a face. "Funny?"

"Oh, I am sorry Ron, I didn't realise it was a crime to be happy." Hermione retorted as she took a spoonful of soup into her mouth.

Ron settled back down, slumping his shoulders and grabbing a handful of tuna and cucumber sandwiches. He gorged himself for the remainder of lunchtime, not uttering a word to either of his friends.

"Right, must dash!" Hermione squeaked as she finished her soup, jumping up from her chair with such enthusiasm it caused Harry to choke on his pumpkin juice.

"Wait, Hermione," Harry coughed, pounding his chest, "We all have Transfiguration together next."

"Oh, I know!" Hermione called over her shoulder. "But I wouldn't want to be late!"

And practically running, Hermione had left The Great Hall.

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><p>Minerva was both stunned and flattered to see Hermione Granger standing outside of her classroom door, 15 minutes early for her Seventh Year lesson.<p>

It had been an odd sort of few days after their brief encounter; given time to reflect, alone in her chamber at night, Minerva had stumbled upon realisations she never thought possible of herself. She had felt her body react, and that had been something a long time gone. In fact, she could still feel her body reacting, even now as she sat in the classroom alone with the young witch.

"I trust you have had a good day, Hermione?" Minerva asked; placing her spectacles onto her nose and perusing essays left late on her desk by some Fourth Years.

"Mm-hmm." Hermione answered quietly, nodding her head so enthusiastically that her hair bounced out of its scruffy low bun.

"Good." Minerva smiled, looking up at Hermione who sat in the front row.

Their eyes connected for some time: Minerva ruffling the essays, Hermione fingering the green leather gloves. Minerva's heart filled at the sight; the young woman had evidently taken to her gift.

They both giggled bashfully, realising they had been gawping at each other; but after a brief aversion of eyes, they returned to one another.

It wasn't until the first bustle of footsteps and scraping of chairs across the stone tiled floor that Minerva took her eyes from Hermione.

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><p>Every question Minerva asked, Hermione's hand was thrust desperately into the air. This wasn't unusual but today the elder witch smiled at every attempt Hermione took at getting her attention. It was hard to ignore the brown eyes that bore so deeply into her soul, making her feel flushed and breathless. She purposefully set tasks for the students to work in pairs without her tuition enabling her to regain control of her whirring mind and throbbing heart.<p>

"I believe you all have your homework to hand in for me?" Minerva announced over the hubbub of the class as their lesson came to an end.

A few students shied away, but Hermione's parchment was held high in the air first. Minerva smiled.

"Very good." She muttered as she nodded toward Hermione.

As her class began to file out, after stern words with those who had failed to fulfil the homework criteria, she saw Hermione lagging behind slowly, edging away from the crowd piling against the door to leave.

"Can I help you with something Hermione?" Minerva asked inquisitively, placing her spectacles on her desk.

"Uhm," Hermione slowly sidled her way to Minerva's desk, her eyes down. "I was wondering if you could read through my paper now please Professor? I worked really hard on it and I'd really like to know your opinion."

Peering down at the rolled up parchment that looked around ten foot long sat in front of her, Minerva frowned slightly.

"I would love nothing more than to settle down with a nice cup of tea and read your homework." Minerva said as she lifted Hermione's essay. "But I do have an awful lot to be getting on with Hermione. Would you mind if I read it after dinner this evening, then perhaps we can meet in the library for a small tutorial on how well you've done?"

Hermione's chest tightened as she heard the words coming from her Professors mouth, looking deeply into the dark green orbs that now once again were sat behind spectacles that Minerva had just donned.

"Sounds perfect Professor, thank you." Hermione managed to pass through her lips that were tugging upward involuntarily.

"Very well. Shall we say 7pm then, at The Library?" Minerva too was smiling, attempting miserably to purse them together to suppress her joy.

As Hermione nodded and turned to walk out of the classroom, Minerva swore she heard the young woman laugh, which brightened the elder for the remainder of the day

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><p>Minerva wondered freely to herself why it seemed such a task waiting for Hermione to turn up. Yes, the girl was young and looked engrossed with her friends at the dining table: She had probably forgotten about meeting Minerva, that was probably it. That, and it was only 6.30pm.<p>

Minerva paced The Library several times through until Irma scorned her for being so antsy, telling her to sit down or leave. Doing as she was told, the elderly witch tapped her foot impatiently against the wooden leg of the chair, and that too got her told off by the librarian. Rolling her eyes and scowling at Madam Pince, Minerva took to reading all of the book's spines from letters B-D within her eyesight. Thinking it must have been nearing 7pm, Minerva checked the time.

6.35pm.

Just as the elder witch was about to protest that the clock must be slow, Hermione walked through the door of The Library. A huge smile appeared on her face as she saw her Professor waiting for her, obviously just as anxious to meet as the younger witch was. She strode past Madam Pince, who was looking ever more suspicious by the second, straight up to Minerva who merely looked stunned at the sight of her.

It was very rare that Minerva got to see her students out of their school robes, as they usually changed once they were back to their own Common Rooms. So this, indeed, was a sight for the very sore eyes. Hermione stood before her, thick black tights covering her slender legs. She wore a lavender cotton dress that dipped reasonably low at the front and covered her arms to her elbows. Her black pixie boots bore buckles either side and finished at her ankle, her hair tied up into a loose ponytail with a purple hair band.

"Good evening Professor." Hermione beamed, enjoying the shocked expression that was now plastered on Minerva's face.

"Yes..." Minerva whispered, trying to regain her thought track. "Uh, yes, yes, good evening, Hermione."

A small and quiet _"ahem"_ was heard while the two witches looked at each other, as Madam Pince cleared her throat, crossing her arms and tapping her foot.

"Come, Hermione, we will find a much quieter place."

Minerva placed her hand on the young woman's shoulder blade, pushing her gently toward the back of The Library as she shot daggers with her eyes at Irma. Hermione sat on a small table in a dark and quiet spot hoping Minerva would sit next to her rather than opposite her.

Minerva obliged.

"Now, Hermione," Minerva began, seating herself in the wooden chair. "I have read through your essay-"

"And?" Hermione interrupted excitedly, almost exploding from the inside.

Minerva smiled at the enthusiasm of the girl as Hermione now scooted to the edge of the chair in anticipation for her answer.

"Well..." Minerva began, feeling her heart flutter at making Hermione wait on her every word. "It is indeed a fine piece of work."

Hermione's shoulders sagged disappointedly.

"Just fine, Professor?" Hermione asked, pouting.

"More than fine: Absolutely exquisite." Minerva commented quietly.

Hermione beamed from ear to ear, shrugging her shoulders slightly as her eyes fell to her lap in embarrassment and pride.

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><p>The two witches sat talking for an hour about Hermione's essay, how much she had come along in the class and how much she enjoyed Minerva's tuition. Talk turned to the young woman's friends and private life outside of the classrooms, to her career and family. They laughed and smiled together, and soon each were holding the others arm as they tittered. They touched gently and tentatively, only to be removed far too soon for fear of embarrassment.<p>

The library had gotten awfully dark; Irma had decided to give up on eaves-dropping and retired to her chambers, switching off most of the lights as she left. The clock chimed 9pm and the two witches glanced at each other nervously in silence for the first time in the evening. They smiled shyly as they caught each other's eyes, shuffling uncomfortably in their seats. Hermione spoke suddenly.

"Thank you very much for taking the time to see me."

Minerva's heart melted at the younger witch's whispered words.

"You're most welcome." The eldest witch replied.

"Although it was only meant to be a tutorial on my essay, it's been wonderful to be able to talk with you about other things. You don't know how much it means; having two boys for best friends can be..." Hermione's eyes dropped suddenly, the all familiar wringing of her hands returning.

Minerva placed a gentle hand over those small and slender fingers, squeezing them tightly.

"It's alright, dear." Minerva said quietly in her low, thick burr.

Everything seemed to become extraordinarily quiet as the brown eyes finally met with the green. They stayed locked on each other for longer than either could remember as with aching slowness they came closer together. Time seemed to stand still as their lips pressed together gently, hardly even touching one another. They remained slow, moving their lips unsurely in the situation, but with definite longing for the other woman. Minerva's hands remained clasping Hermione's on her lap, both too afraid to move any other part of their body but their mouths. Their tongues remained hidden shyly in their rightful place, but both women enjoyed the feeling of the others lips massaging their own. The kiss lasted for a while, their eyes closed and eyebrows raised in pure bliss in a dream like state. Their once maniacally beating hearts seemed to become calm and sedated, but still pounding with the same passion and force. They finally broke from one another, their lids still heavy as Minerva slowly opened her eyes to see Hermione smile giddily with her eyes still shut.

The young woman finally batted her eyes; her pupils wide as she looked upon her teacher.

"Goodnight, Professor." Hermione whispered breathlessly, raising from her seat elegantly and gliding beautifully past Minerva.

"Goodnight, Hermione." Minerva smirked with wide eyes.

Hermione's hips swayed as she walked to leave The Library, Minerva's eyes never leaving her as the young woman took one last glance back with a beaming smile.

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><p><em>AN: Sorry it's taken a couple of days but hopefully worth waiting for?_


	6. Chapter 6

_And still... I don't own any of the characters!_

_Dedicated to my wonderful girlfriend JUJUChick16; for putting up with my ramblings and listening to me witter on about this story, for also having the patience of a saint to listen to me read it to her._

_To infinity and beyond, love._

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><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

"You know what, just come out with it, what the pigging hell is going on with you lately?"

Ron had finally cracked.

It had been a long day, full of the lessons everyone detested: Potions, Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, so already Ron had seemed irritated and ratty. He had been even more irked by Hermione's once again upbeat and optimistic mood; especially on such an exceedingly difficult and boring day .Today she seemed even more cheery, smiling stupidly and greeting everyone with a _"Good morning!" _or_ "Good afternoon!"_.

He had noticed her gazing wide eyed in The Great Hall at all meal times, glancing to the front then looking away quickly with a blush rising in her cheeks. She had taken more time with her hair this morning and was evidently wearing makeup. He would hear her sighing deeply, resting her head heavily onto her palm as a dreamy film came across her eyes once more, consuming her so every word Ron spoke became completely fallen upon deaf ears.

Harry didn't seem to notice; either that or he simply just didn't care, but it was really getting Ron worked up that Hermione seemed so distant, making it apparent it didn't matter to her whether he was within existence or not. He had made his mood quite clear through his words, or lack of them; but even his snappy remarks and cutting digs did not phase Hermione's chirpy demeanour.

His face had been a permanent scowl all afternoon as Hermione laughed with Parvati and Padma, her face shining with pure delight.

She had even begun to wear lipstick.

Dinner time had been tedious as Hermione picked at her food, pushing it around her plate as she stared into the abyss, her brows raised and a small smile creeping across her face.

The common room had been even worst when Hermione settled onto a sofa next to the fire with a book; she would seem engrossed in the pages, as always, until a small breathy laugh would cause her to place her hand to her mouth, put her book down and shake her head. Her hand would then move to cover her eyes as a smile as wide as can be would be revealed, her bottom lip tucked under her top teeth.

Ron had had enough, and soon he was marching over to Hermione, demanding an answer.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked confused, placing her book upon the coffee table in front of her.

"You've hardly talked to me for the past week!"

Hermione was soon pulled out of her daydream of last night's events with her Professor, her face falling immediately into a stern and venomous look.

"If it hadn't passed your attention, Ronald, you were rather rude to me the night of the ball, and I haven't quite forgiven you for that yet."

"Oh no, don't give me that one Hermione... This is different." Ron said in a low threatening tone, pointing his index finger toward the ground as if making a point.

A few students from the crowded Common Room had started to stare as they realised the argument going on by the fireplace.

"Ron, I really don't know what you're talking about." Hermione dismissed, picking up her book and walking toward the window.

"Oh please, Hermione!" Ron groaned in frustration. "I'm not stupid for crying out loud!"

A snort came from the back of the Common Room as most eyes now fell upon the two bickering students. Ron shot a look toward the place where he heard the laughter, but turned immediately back to Hermione.

"Ronald, please, you're making a scene..." Hermione whispered embarrassed.

"Oh, good, then maybe now I have got your attention!"

Ron began to pace a small patch on the floor, Hermione's eyes following him intently.

"Why is it that for the past few days you have been ignoring me, hm?"

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed.

"Ron, I haven't been ignoring you..."

"Then what else would you call not talking to me?"

"You haven't exactly made much conversation yourself!" Hermione shrieked, feeling herself rise to the situation.

She had banged her book down on another table to her left in a flash of anger, her blood slowly boiling within her.

"You think I haven't noticed?" Ron asked with a broken voice.

"Noticed what!" Hermione shrugged, shaking her head at her best friend.

Ron let out a hollow laugh, rubbing the stubble on his chin that had started to grow the past couple of months. His stance became protective; his shoulders broadened, his jaw jutted outward and his feet stood firmly apart on the floor.

"You're kidding me, right?" Ron stated, raising his eyebrows.

Hermione noticed herself getting hot as she glanced around the room catching more than twenty pairs of eyes on her and Ron. She could feel the pink rising in her cheeks as her palms became sweaty and her heart began to pound.

"Ron, please..." Hermione pleaded quietly. "Not with everyone around..."

"The makeup? The hair?" Ron muttered vindictively as he slowly walked towards her. "Come on Hermione."

The young woman shook her head, her mouth slightly open as Ron narrowed his eyes. The boy came to within an inch of Hermione's face, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He looked her up and down with disgust in his eyes as he whispered:

"Who's the lucky bloke you've been tarting yourself up for this time?"

Hermione's face dropped in horror as Ron's eyes met hers. A heavy tear dropped suddenly from her glassy orb and rolled down her cheek, clinging desperately to her chin. Her eyes were wide as her bottom jaw moved up and down in an attempt to speak, only to be silenced by Ron's unforgiving stare.

She pushed passed him, stumbling clumsily to the door of the Common Room avoiding all of the eyes that were now following her. She slammed the door shut harder than she had thought, hearing The Fat Lady shouting after her as she started to walk at a pace. She fervently rubbed her lips together, her chest rapidly moving as she tried hard to keep in her pent up anger and hurt. Her nails dug deep into her palms over and over until she finally rounded the corner that had dug deep into her mind since stepping out into the corridors of Hogwarts.

Walking immediately to the large oak door, Hermione rapped her knuckles consistently on the surface. She could feel them beginning to bruise when the lock finally turned and green eyes finally met her own.

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><p><em>AN: let me know what you think?_


	7. Chapter 7

_I own none of these characters!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>

Minerva opened the door, her face changing from welcome to worry within a split second.

Hermione stood at the entrance of her personal chambers, tears beginning to stream down her face at the site of Minerva.

"Can I come in?" Hermione squeaked as she strode passed Minerva without an answer.

The eldest witch shot her head out of her door hurriedly, looking down the dimly lit corridor.

"Are you alone?" She asked Hermione as she retreated and closed the door.

The young woman nodded wiping her tears away with her sleeve, sniffing lightly.

"Here," Minerva whispered, whipping a handkerchief out of her sleeve and handing it to Hermione. "Sit down, dear."

Hermione looked into Minerva's eyes which the elder witch knew as a thank you that couldn't be said this very moment. She placed her hands on the younger witch's shoulders, pushing her gently down onto the sofa and sitting next to her.

"Now, tell me everything?" Minerva asked softly.

Flicking her wand, the eldest witch summoned a glass of water and placed it in front of Hermione who was rubbing her face clear of her tears gently, enjoying the softness of Minerva's hanky. The young woman sighed heavily as she settled back into the comfy settee.

"Ron and I, we... we had another argument."

Minerva's heart began to throb as she felt contempt for the Weasley boy upsetting Hermione once again.

"What did the argument consist of?" Minerva asked reservedly.

"He called me..." Hermione sat up again, uncomfortable.

Silence lingered between them

"Called you what dear?" Minerva too sat forward slightly, trying to gage Hermione's expression.

"He called me..."

Minerva's brows furrowed in worry and confusion, leaning forward to capture Hermione's eyes. With slowness, Hermione met Minerva's gaze and her lips began to tremble.

"He called me a tart." Hermione whimpered, placing a tight fist over her mouth.

Minerva's back straightened slowly, her vertebrae creaking quietly. The eldest witch inhaled deeply as she looked away from Hermione, trying to hide the feeling of anger that had risen like a stallion inside of her, wanting to march right up to Ron Weasley and give him what for. Instead, she turned to the woman sat beside her who was staring into the fire like a lost soul. Minerva's face softened.

"Hermione, you are a kind, loving and sweet girl." Minerva spoke slowly. "You always have everyone's best interests at heart and you are very selfless. You're intelligent and talented, and certainly not what Mr Weasley has recently described you."

Minerva said her last words with more venom than she had wanted to let out.

"I'm sure he didn't mean what he said." Minerva added softly.

"You didn't hear him." Hermione stated dully. "He meant what he said."

Another tear slid down Hermione's cheek, only to be caught half way down its path with the handkerchief.

"Hermione," Minerva began, standing up and sitting gently on the coffee table so as to face the young woman. "Look at me: you are not and never will be any of the nasty and venomous things anyone has ever said about you."

Hermione's face contorted as she looked deeply into her Professors eyes.

"Then why did he say those things about me?"

Minerva's heart melted at the crumbling woman before her, wanting nothing more to wrap her arms around Hermione.

"Well, have you considered Mr Weasley is jealous?" Minerva questioned.

Hermione sat idle for a while, contemplating the idea. She blinked a few times before returning her gaze to Minerva.

"Jealous?" The young woman asked.

"Yes. Even I have noticed today he has seemed more morose than usual." Minerva commented raising her eyebrows.

"But what would he be jealous of?" Hermione quizzed innocently.

"My dear," Minerva smiled, completely bowled over by Hermione. "I have also noticed lately that you have seemed a lot happier."

Hermione flushed a beautiful shade of pink, averting her eyes downward as her lips tugged upward.

"And do you find yourself smiling a lot more?" Minerva smirked.

Hermione bashfully nodded her head, returning her eyes to Minerva that were not full of tears anymore, but full of giddiness and joy.

"Perhaps Mr Weasley is jealous that _he_ hasn't caused this effect?"

"Ron could never have this effect on me..." Hermione said hoarsely, looking ever deeper into her teacher's eyes.

Minerva felt her heart swell as Hermione's voice lowered, her eyes batting under long thick eyelashes.

"Then I think, perhaps, we have found the cause of Mr Weasley's outbursts." Minerva stated, standing once more and plonking herself down next to Hermione.

"I think you could be right." Hermione agreed, trying not to smile so broadly.

"Then why don't you go back and speak to him about it?" Minerva enquired, lifting herself from the comfy position she had acquired to pour herself a scotch. "Don't apologise mind." Minerva added quickly, pointing the top of the bottle toward Hermione.

"Oh no, I can't, not tonight, I'm so embarrassed." Hermione said placing a hand over her eyes. "I don't even want to go back to the Common Room."

"What do you mean?" Minerva asked, walking to the fire place and leaning her right arm on the mantel.

"Everyone was watching whilst Ron belittled me Professor. I felt like such an idiot with everyone looking at me." Hermione groaned, laying her head back against the sofa.

Minerva blinked slowly, watching as Hermione gripped the edge of her settee. The young woman's legs were jiggling slightly; a nervous trait Minerva had been able to notice since Hermione was the age of 13.

"Would you like to stay here tonight?" Minerva asked quietly.

Hermione lifted her head, staring non-blinkingly at Minerva.

"Of course, you can say no..." Minerva began to back track quickly. "It is just an option; a safe place should you ever nee-"

"You would let me stay?" Hermione asked quietly.

Minerva closed her mouth and nodded slowly.

"Yes, of course."

Hermione smiled shyly; she really had been dreading going back to the Common Room but never even thought of Minerva giving her the chance to avoid it.

"If you wouldn't mind..." Hermione whispered.

"I've got some blankets in the cupboard; you can have the spare pillows from my bed..." Minerva said softly, gesturing with her head toward her bedroom. "You're more than welcome here Hermione; you always are."

Hermione smiled peacefully, resting her head back onto the soft sofa.

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><p>After gathering all the necessary pillows, blankets, sheets and cushions to make Hermione comfortable (and then some), Minerva levitated the large single chair from her bedroom into the sitting room where the young witch was to be sleeping.<p>

The elder witch ensured the fire was roaring, although opened a window slightly for it not to be too stuffy. She closed all of the curtains, transfigured the sofa to be longer and wider and dimmed the candles to ensure Hermione slept better.

"Professor, really, this is too much..." Hermione muttered.

However she couldn't help but feel elated that Minerva was causing such a fuss, wanting to make sure that the young witch was happy and comfortable.

"There now, I think that's everything." Minerva said to herself, hands on her hips.

Hermione had been watching as Minerva busied herself with task after task, evidently aware of wanting to make Hermione welcome. She had been flattered and overwhelmed by the kindness of her teacher, only adding to the feelings that were coursing through her body and heart.

The young witch walked slowly over to Minerva, who stood looking at her. Hermione wrapped her arms around Minerva's waist, resting her head and nuzzling her cheek against Minerva's chest bone. Air hitched in the elder witch's throat at Hermione's touch, but she instinctively held the woman close, rubbing her back gently.

"Thank you." Hermione whispered, smiling.

"You're more than welcome, dear." Minerva answered, kissing the crown of Hermione's head.

"Goodnight." Hermione breathed.

"Goodnight." Minerva rumbled lowly.

They both smiled as they let go of one another, although the closeness and warmth stayed within them.

Hermione retreated to the sofa and led herself down comfortably as Minerva took place in the large single chair she had brought from her bedroom. She sighed contentedly as she watched Hermione's eyes beginning to roll, until finally the younger witch gave herself into slumber. Minerva spent another hour or two merely looking at Hermione, wanting to make sure she was safe and sleeping soundly. It was 3am by the time Minerva retired to her own bed, smiling to herself. Thoughts of the evening stayed with her and entered her dreams as she fell asleep as soundly as Hermione had.

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><p><em>AN: do not be disappointed, this will be an 'M' soon :)_


	8. Chapter 8

_I am not JK... Therefore, I own nothing..._

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight<strong>

Minerva had woken early, rousing Hermione as she slept silently. The elder witch had gotten out of bed and dressed to ensure that Hermione were to be woken early too:

"_You probably ought to go back to the Common Room now before everyone wakes up. You won't be hassled with questions as to your whereabouts nor will it give Mr Weasley fuel to vent; it'll be as if you never left."_

So Hermione was now strolling the corridors of the castle sleepily, back up to the Gryffindor Common Room with a heart full of fire and a smile of pure content. She had Minerva hold her one last time before departing, and Hermione was sure it would keep her warm until the next time.

Hoping there would be a next time, she walked through the door to the Common Room, seeing Harry sleeping awkwardly on the sofa in front of the dying fire; He'd obviously waited up for her.

Smiling even more, knowing one of her friends truly cared, Hermione climbed the stairs to the girls dorms, silently tiptoed her way over to her bed, pulled the curtains around her and slumped back, eyes wide and daydreaming of her teacher.

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><p>"Ah, Mr Weasley, perhaps you can enlighten us?"<p>

Minerva strode over to the ginger haired boy's table, looking down her nose and over her spectacles at him. She tapped her wand impatiently in her hand.

"Uh...Uh..." Ron grunted; his mouth opening and closing like a cod-fish. "I don't know, Professor McGonagall..."

"Oh." Minerva said shortly and sarcastically, raising her eyebrows at him and staring with her best strict teacher eyes.

She turned on her heel to the front of the class, her robes billowing behind her in a flurry.

"Yes, Miss Granger." Minerva said, turning toward Hermione.

"There are currently six branches of Transfiguration, Professor." The young woman piped up.

"Excellent Hermione, well done. And can anyone tell me what they are?"

Minerva's eyes falsely scanned the classroom, landing on a familiar face once more as he groaned and rolled his eyes.

"Mr Weasley?" Minerva questioned.

Ron delved into his _Transfiguration: Morphing the Min_d book, flipping the pages manically trying to find anything on what his teacher had just asked him. Minerva made sure Ron's eyes were up as she shook her head slowly with pursed lips.

"No? Well..." Minerva stated breathlessly, making disappointment evident in her eyes.

Hermione's hand shot into the air desperately.

"Yes, Hermione." Minerva said pointing her wand at the young witch.

"They are: cross-species, animate-inanimate, inanimate-animate, human, animagi and conjuration." Hermione reeled off, nodding her head with every right answer.

"Excellent Hermione, 20 points to Gryffindor." Minerva smiled.

The class all whispered in excitement, shooting looks at the Slytherin's sat at the opposite side of the room – All except Ron, that was.

"Now, although there are six branches of Transfiguration, just as Miss Granger rightfully pointed out, one branch is arguable to many who specialise in the Transfiguration field. Can you, Mr Weasley, tell me which one it is?" Minerva said venomously, tapping her wand in his direction.

Ron's mouth hung open, not even remembering the answers his friend had just said. He saw Hermione's hand shoot into the air once again, and scowled at the back of her head.

"Mr Weasley, did you hear me?" Minerva enquired, forcing Ron's stare to move back to his teacher.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall." Ron answered.

"And?" She asked impatiently.

Ron slumped dully as the class all turned to face him.

"I don't know the answer Professor." Ron replied in a dulcet tone.

Minerva sighed, trying her best not to smirk at the situation she was causing.

"Mr Weasley, you are soon to be leaving Hogwarts, launching into the adult world where people will not be there to answer for you. You will do well to listen in my classes, do you understand me?" Minerva spoke authoritatively and slow. "Hermione?"

The young witch drew breath as the elder looked upon her with those elegant green eyes.

"Conjuration is the exception, Professor McGonagall." Hermione spoke proudly. "Although it is a transfiguration of sorts into another object or being, it is a cover of what it truly is and not an identical representation."

Minerva looked at the ginger haired boy with a look of expectation as Ron nodded looking down at his open book, his lips tightly together as his ears began to burn.

"Exactly, Miss Granger, 10 points to Gryffindor." Minerva smiled again, rubbing her forehead as she turned and chuckled to herself slightly. She rounded once more on Ron. "Now, Mr Weasley, will you please step to the front of the class and read us your paper?" Minerva asked, walking toward her desk.

Ron's eyes shot up to look at his Professor, his face turning pale as his brows raised. He swallowed hard as his Professor looked at him in anticipation of his standing.

"Mr Weasley; today would be a fine thing." Minerva stated as she set her glasses upon her desk.

Walking toward the back of the class and passed Ron's table, she patted him hard on the shoulder twice as her last signification for him to stand and deliver his paper. As he picked the scruffy and crumpled piece of parchment out of his bag, everyone's eyes fell on him. He walked numbly to stand in front of Minerva's desk, looking out across the classroom. How it seemed bigger with a lot more people up here than it did sat down, he would never know.

"You may begin, Mr Weasley." Minerva smiled sweetly, placing her hands in front of her and rocking slowly onto the balls of her feet.

Ron took a deep breath, moving his eyes from Professor McGonagall to his piece of parchment that he had somehow unfolded. Shakily, he began to mumble the first line.

"Transfiguration is the most well known and established sector of our time. In this essa-"

"Speak up, Mr Weasley! I can't hear you at the back!" Minerva shouted, placing one hand behind her ear.

Ron sighed once again, licking his lips. He cleared his throat and projected more.

"In this essay I will be explor-"

"From the beginning please, Mr Weasley!" Minerva asked shrilly, pacing her way toward the window looking out across a green lawn.

As Ron took a deep breath, starting from the beginning of his paragraph, he could feel his face becoming a beetroot red. People at the back were beginning to snicker at his Professors corrections. He even looked at Harry for moral support only to be greeted with a smirk. His nostrils flared as he inhaled at the end of each sentence, unable to look at his teacher for fear of being wrong once again.

As he read the last sentence, Ron felt a sense of relief beginning to engulf him. He had finished, looking up and smiling at Professor McGonagall. Minerva was staring out of the window, pretending that she hadn't noticed Ron finishing. She made the class, and Ron, wait in silence for a minute until she felt that the boy had endured enough punishment.

"How enthralling Mr Weasley." Minerva stated dully, walking toward him. "See me tonight at 7pm here, please."

Ron looked dumbstruck as his Professor walked behind him and sat in her desk chair. He stumbled back to his table, wanting the world to swallow him whole.

"Hand me in your papers, then you all may go." Minerva smiled, looking up at her class.

A bustle of chairs against the floor and students chattering erupted at once, Minerva nodding to each of her pupils as they handed in their essay's, even to Ron who averted any eye contact possible. Hermione was the last once again to hand in her paper, telling Harry she would catch up with him later. Ron had already made a speedy exit.

As the door to the classroom closed, Hermione spoke.

"I just wanted to say, thank you, again, Professor."

Hermione leant girlishly on Minerva's desk, swinging her shoulders slightly.

"Hermione, you know that you're most welcome." Minerva smiled, removing her spectacles from her nose.

They looked at each other for a moment or two, until Minerva looked down into her lap.

"Hermione? I wondered if perhaps you would like to go to Hogsmeade and have a meal?" Minerva hesitated. "With me."

Minerva looked up into the staring brown eyes, watching as a smile began to splay across Hermione's face. The young witch's eyes seemed to light up with something, but with what Minerva couldn't quite put her wand on. Hermione said nothing as she took her weight away from Minerva's desk and onto her own two feet, securing her bag onto her shoulder. She paused.

"When? And what time?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Saturday at 8pm?" Minerva replied.

She had been toying with the idea of asking such a bold question to a student; she had worked out every little tiniest detail and just prayed that Hermione would accept.

"By the front gate?" Hermione probed.

"So then, yes?" Minerva smirked.

"Yes, Professor." Hermione beamed.

"Until Saturday, Hermione." Minerva whispered in a sultry tone, hardly believing herself.

"Until then." Hermione replied, as she pouted and turned away from her Professor.

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><p><em>AN: Ron's ass has officially been owned... And is gonna get even more owned..._


	9. Chapter 9

_Still owning nothing!  
><em>

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

Ron made his dinner as drawn out as possible, hoping 7pm would just pass without him noticing. However, Hermione reminded him of his ever pleasant detention with Professor McGonagall and he reluctantly grabbed his things and left. He slouched his way to the Transfiguration classroom taking his own sweet time about making the journey. He huffed and puffed all the way there; hoping some form of distraction had taken Professor McGonagall's attention.

However, as he rounded into the open door of the classroom, there sat the woman he wished to see least, behind her desk with her spectacles propped gently onto her thin and angular nose; from what Ron could see, she was grading homework.

Aware that Ron had just stepped into the room, Minerva made sure of making a mammoth scene in scarring a large 'X' over what looked to be someone's homework, but what really was a piece of blank parchment. Ron's eyes widened as her eyes fell upon him.

"Good evening Mr Weasley, right on time I see..." Minerva said.

Her tone was false; sweet with an underlying sourness. She rose from her desk and splayed her hand to a chair in the front row, where a quill and ink pot had already been set. Ron cautiously made his way toward his teacher, their eye contact never breaking; Minerva smiling, Ron looking horrified.

Ron settled into his chair uncomfortably, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth. He kept glancing at Minerva who held her stare solidly, watching as pink rose in his cheeks once again; his ears nearly matching his hair. When she felt herself starting to smirk, she began to pace in front of him.

"Do you know _why_ you are here, Mr Weasley?" Minerva asked.

"Because my essay wasn't up to your standard, Professor." Ron mumbled, beginning to play with the feathery quill.

Minerva laughed quietly in her throat, loud enough for Ron to hear.

"Yes and no..." Minerva stopped, her eyes rounding on the Weasley boy. "Ronald Weasley, these detentions will be design-"

"_Detentions_! As in plural!" Ron interrupted incredulously, his eyebrows disappearing into his fringe.

"Yes, My Weasley, _detentions_. I believe your recent behaviour and lack of moral-will to educate your self will not be fixed within one sitting." Minerva scolded, becoming agitated by his rudeness.

Her lips pursed tightly as Ron looked down at the table shaking his head; that irritating and grinding look on his face that sent Minerva mad with rage.

She turned fiercely toward her desk, exhaling to try and calm herself. She could easily belittle and have Ronald in tears within mere seconds, but she thought of the smiling, beautiful face of Hermione, their dinner date tomorrow at 8pm, and knew that is not what the young witch would want. She turned to face him, her eyes piercing.

"Mr Weasley, we will begin by discussing Witch's and their ever demanding and powerful role in society..."

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><p><em>AN: So_, _who's for the dinner date...?_


	10. Chapter 10

_Owning up to owning nothin'!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten<strong>

Minerva stood straight with her arms down by her side, surveying herself in the full length mirror through the corner of her eye. She was inspecting every angle of herself, from the tip of her velvet witch's hat to the points of her black lace up boots. It had been so many years since Minerva had been out to dinner with a woman who interested her, and all of a sudden things had crept up on her: the lines creasing her eyes hadn't been there before, her protruding knuckles were new, her greying hair, her loosening neck, all things that had somehow wormed their way onto her once beautiful and youthful body. She didn't look bad, standing in her padded satin fitted dress robe of dark green with silk petticoat underlay, but she still wasn't as young as Hermione...

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><p>Pulling her hair out one final time, Hermione decided to wear it down. She had been getting ready for three hours, convincing the other girls she shared her dorm with that she was just 'playing dress-up'.<p>

After deciding to wear a dress rather than shirt and jeans, after deciding to wear subtle make-up rather than coloured, after deciding to wear heels instead of flats, after deciding a necklace rather than nothing, after deciding to wear perfume and not cologne, and finally after deciding to wear her hair down rather than pinned back, Hermione looked herself up and down in her reflection. She still felt plain, turning around slowly and whipping her head quickly so as to see anything particularly amazing. This night would mark the first of her exploring the side of herself that always was attracted to other women. She didn't look bad, standing in her mid-length lace dress of white with black tights and heels, but she still wasn't as old as Minerva...

* * *

><p><em>Fashionably late, or early? Fashionably late, or early?<em> No matter how many times Minerva repeated the words in her head as she straightened out things in her chamber to occupy her mind, the elder witch couldn't come to a decision. _Shall I be early and make her think I'm eager; I don't want to scare her away... Or shall I be late, make her wait for me and have her possibly turn and leave?_

Minerva rubbed her face hard in her hands, the tips of her fingers pressing gently on her eye sockets. She marked the time at 7.25pm on Saturday 18th October as she left her quarters in destination of the front gates.

She strode purposefully through the corridors of the castle, students still milling around as they made their way back to their Common Rooms. They all looked at her as she flew by without eye contact, never seeing McGonagall looking so dressy. Even the boys took a second glance, and Minerva was sure she distinctly heard a wolf whistle from behind her as she rounded the corner near The Great Hall. All eyes fell about her as she stopped abruptly in her stride, standing next to the open doors and front gate to the castle. She tapped her foot impatiently, hoping this would be decoy enough to make any student or even teacher think twice about approaching her. Minerva turned slowly to glare at the last few lingering bodies, her arms folded tightly across her heaving chest. As the last teenager was out of site, Minerva released her arms slumping heavily against the large wooden doors.

Hermione peeped around the corner of the steps leading down to the front gates. It was unusually empty for this time of evening; however that didn't bother her in the slightest. In fact, it gave her a much wider panoramic view of her teacher who stood leaning heavily against the entrance doors. Her hands rested gently on her thighs as she looked out into the grounds of Hogwarts, a bright sun through dark rain clouds setting across the castle. Her fitted robes hugged her slender figure which was usually hidden by draping and over-hung teaching robes. Her witches' hat added to her slim-line features as the elderly witch turned her head and looked at her feet, breathing in deeply as her chest visibly expanded.

Hermione wished she could freeze time, just this one moment, to have more than those few seconds to look in awe at the witch standing a few metres away from her. It was a side to her Professor she hadn't seen before, one that nearly represented human; someone who was approachable, who knew what weakness and fear was from time to time. Her teacher had once again turned up early, proving to Hermione that this was of her own will and not something she felt pressured by the young witch to do. She couldn't help but smile at the fluttering feeling that engulfed her whole body as Minerva turned her head quickly toward her, catching her staring at the elder witch. Her teacher immediately straightened up brushing off her robes, her eyebrows rising and her fists clenching as Hermione stepped out to reveal herself.

Hermione was sure she saw faint _'wow'_ play on Minerva's lips.

* * *

><p>"May I enquire on how Mr Weasley's attitude has fared today?"<p>

Minerva took a glass of wine to her lips, sipping gently on the red liquid that swirled within it. She placed it down and returned to her meal with a smirk as Hermione answered.

"Actually, he's been rather quiet today... come to think about it, he's hardly said a word at all."

Hermione momentarily sat back in her chair, sinking into a darkness away from the candlelit table in the quiet yet quant pub. She twisted her fork in her hand a few times over, then sitting back she shrugged her shoulders.

"If I'm perfectly honest I haven't paid much attention to him since Thursday evening." Hermione muttered, frowning her brows as she took another forkful of dinner into her mouth.

Minerva too had been waylaid from her meal as she stared at Hermione sat opposite her. Her heart had been beating so hard and persistently that she was sure the young witch would hear it sooner or later. She had taken time to enjoy looking at Hermione this evening, allowing herself those few extra glances at the beautiful woman. She even stole a brush of hands as they walked humbly into Hogsmeade.

The evening so far had gone exactly how Minerva had wanted it; light hearted, fun and romantically. Hermione had been right on form with her, and instead of shying away from her older Professor, had actually embraced the idea of a dinner date. She had allowed Minerva to take her cloak, pull her chair out and even when Minerva insisted on paying, much before they had chosen their meals, Hermione had just thanked her rather than protested. Minerva had caught the young woman looking at her, both at the entrance hall and throughout the evening. It gave her confidence she had never felt before; that even at the age of seventy she was still in some way attractive, presentable, and perhaps an object of want. She would turn away bashfully, pretending she hadn't noticed.

"As long as he isn't giving you trouble." Minerva said lowly, returning back to her meal.

Hermione nodded gratefully as she chewed, thinking her Professor had been too kind to be thinking about such idiocies as Ronald Weasley and his moody-git act. Patting her mouth gently with a red napkin, Hermione looked around the small pub Minerva had brought her to. The low ceilings had oak beams across the width of the room, some of the taller men having to duck their way to the bar. The tender and waitresses had been friendly, their meal arriving on time and absolutely delicious. The windows were small, the bottom of them blocked by beautiful wreaths of fresh flowers. The chairs and tables were of a deep blood-wood, varnished and polished to perfection. Minerva had ordered them both a bottle of expensive red wine and Hermione could feel the slight effects of the alcohol running through her veins.

"This really is lovely, Professor. Thank you." Hermione said smiling at the elder witch.

She swung her leg slowly in hope of finding Minerva's foot.

"Do you like it?" Minerva asked tentatively, looking down at her plate.

Hermione swung her legs further forward, still somehow missing her Professors foot.

"Like it? I think it's adorable!" Hermione said, her eyes widening trying to seek out where her Professors legs had disappeared to.

"You really think so?" Minerva asked again, patting her mouth with the napkin she had just pulled out from her lap.

As Hermione felt fervently with her shoes for any sign of another pair of feet, she pondered how on earth Minerva had a lap to place a napkin upon when her legs were playing hide-and-seek so well.

"Yes, I really do." Hermione answered shortly, concentrating too hard on trying to find Minerva's seemingly altogether non-existent legs..

Minerva looked up with wide eyes at Hermione's answer that had come quicker and shorter than expected, but the younger woman sat opposite her smiled and nodded, her eyes gleaming in the candle light.

"Good." Minerva answered, unfolding and swinging her legs from underneath her seat.

In any other situation, legs would have bashed hideously into one another, causing both participants a lot of pain and embarrassment. However, as Minerva's legs shifted, so did Hermione's, tucking neatly underneath her chair. She felt a knee touch her own, and with haste she quickly pulled her legs out from underneath her, bumping her teachers slightly.

Minerva's eyes widened, thinking Hermione had mistakenly placed her foot onto her teachers calve. She made to move her leg when Hermione's other foot trapped her, wrapping her heel around Minerva's ankle and locking it into position. Hermione leant innocently on her palm, her elbow placed gently onto the table; her eyes were wide and her smile seductive.

"I really, _really_ like it..." Hermione whispered, edging her foot slowly up Minerva's leg.

* * *

><p>The weather outside was bitterly cold as they walked back to the dim lights of the castle at 12am after their meal. Hermione struggled to walk gracefully in her heels for two reasons: one was that the ground was covered in a slippery film due to the rain that had passed whilst they were eating, the second was that she had drunk that evening for the first time in months, and be it only two glasses of wine, Hermione found herself swaying slightly.<p>

"And they say young people can hold their liquor..." Minerva mumbled smiling at Hermione as she lifted her steadily from another stumble, linking her arm with the younger girl for support.

Hermione swooned as her Professor held her tightly, wanting nothing more than for Minerva to place her rosy lips once again on her own. She had fantasized the whole evening about how Minerva may have leant over and kissed her gently across the table, or perhaps followed her to the girls' bathroom for a quick smooch.

Hermione leant on Minerva heavily, pretending to be tipsier than she was just to be closer to the aging witch. They laughed merrily all the journey back and not once did the conversation turn awkward as Minerva feared it may.

"Honestly Professor, I'll be fine!" Hermione laughed as they entered into Hogwarts, waving her hand in front of her in dismissal.

Tripping over her feet as she made her way to the steps, the young woman laughed even harder, sliding down the wall and settling on a step. Minerva too was wiping tears from her eyes; the mere idea of Hermione being under the influence of alcohol made her chuckle, the sight however made her burst with laughter.

"No, honestly Hermione." Minerva said in her best responsible tone. "I will walk you back to The Common Room, I'd feel better if you'd let me."

Minerva reached her hand out to help Hermione stand up once again; as the younger woman took it, the elder pulled hard. Bringing the young witch to her body, Minerva gave Hermione a once round dance, twirling her until she was in fits of giggles again.

"Come on, for Merlin's sake." Minerva laughed, taking Hermione by the waist and leading her up the steps slowly.

As they began to reach The Common room, both witches ceased their laughing and Minerva came to stand still.

"I think I had better leave you here, you'll get no end of questions as to where you have been with me." Minerva said, nodding at the door leading to The Common Room.

Hermione lifted herself from Minerva and slowly walked toward a sunken alcove that shadowed in the light. She leant her back against the rough stone wall and beckoned for Minerva to come to her. Minerva's heart raced as the enticing witch curled her finger three times, and walking numbly she found herself by Hermione's side far quicker than she had anticipated. She pressed herself against the other woman's body, stroking Hermione's cheek with her knuckles.

"How do you think I look tonight?" Hermione asked thickly as Minerva saw her pupils widen.

Minerva could feel Hermione's breath on her face; it began to quicken.

"You look beyond beautiful. I'm in absolute awe of you." Minerva said seductively low.

Hermione made a small whimpering noise as she fluttered her eyes.

"Kiss me." She whispered.

Minerva cupped Hermione's face slowly as she brought their lips together, Hermione's brows frowning at the bittersweet pain it was to finally have those lips to hers once again. Minerva's kiss was beyond any she had experienced; full of passion and of truth. Hermione placed her hands upon Minerva's small slim hips, squeezing them slightly as Minerva drew away to look into Hermione's eyes for a fraction of a second before she delved once again to kiss her from a different angle. Hermione instinctively let her tongue venture into Minerva's mouth, wanting so desperately for the woman who was so close against her to retaliate.

Minerva moaned silently to herself as she felt Hermione willingly use her tongue and without thought, she too responded. It had been a long time since Minerva had kissed another woman, but the familiarity returned as her left hand fell away from Hermione's face to slip down to her perfectly curved bottom.

As if by magic once again, everything stopped as their kiss took place. It was as if no one else was in the world but they, and it wouldn't matter if another war had broken out right in front of them. Neither would have noticed, or even cared, because what they were sharing with each other right this moment was all that was real and of any importance in life.

They both stopped, their chests heaving as Minerva leant her forehead against Hermione's. They gasped for air, Minerva damning the need to breathe.

Hermione raised her eyes to her Professor, smiling coyly with a glint in her eye. She pushed herself from the wall and left her teacher standing as she looked over her shoulder. Minerva watched as Hermione began walking toward The Fat Lady, and was nearly there until she suddenly turned on her heel. She marched straight up to Minerva with her arms outstretched, cupping her face on arrival. And kissing her slowly, seductively and altogether too shortly, she bid her goodnight and walked away smiling.

Minerva placed her hand over her mouth, laughing once as she smiled in shock. Her hand was placed on her hip, a feeling of elation and pure completeness coursing through her. She was buzzing all over, but she felt numb, which was an awfully strange feeling altogether. Looking toward The Common Room door one last time, Minerva sighed smiling, turning around and making her way to her chamber.

And from the shadows, without the two women seeing, another body watched, waited, and made its way back into The Common Room.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Dun duh-DUH!_


	11. Chapter 11

_None of these characters belong to me._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven<strong>

Ron trudged the ever chilling corridors of Hogwarts lazily, his heart heavy and his expression morose. He sighed loudly as he entered the long, narrow corridor that lead to the Transfiguration room, knowing Professor McGonagall would be sat at her desk waiting for him.

God how he detested that woman at the moment.

Before entering the classroom, Ron stopped for a moment to gather himself. He clenched his fists, broadened his shoulders and stuck his chin high in the air, marching through the doorway and up to the desk that sat horizontally at the front of the classroom.

"Good evening, Professor McGonagall." Ronald said, almost like a soldier to his sergeant.

Minerva took her time looking to the ginger haired boy who was glaring down at her. She took her glasses off slowly and set down some papers she had been marking.

"Well, good evening Mr Weasley. Will you take a seat please?" Minerva asked quietly with a smile.

Ron turned on his heel, striding to the table in the first row. He took the chair gently, careful not to scrape it along the floor and sat with his back straight. He placed his bag next to him on the desk, taking out _Hogwarts: A H__istory_ and a blank piece of parchment. Once he had finished checking things twice through, he slowly returned his gaze to his teacher, who was smirking.

"There now, Mr Weasley, that wasn't so hard to do, was it?" Minerva checked her watch. "Only 45 minutes and 6 attempts, but you got there in the end."

Ron slumped slightly, relieved he wouldn't have to leave and re-enter the classroom anymore. Minerva had turned to the blackboard, flicking her wand for the chalk to begin writing some objectives.

"Doesn't it feel a lot better when you're polite to someone." Minerva stated as a rhetorical question with her back to Ron.

Before Ron could even think of a quick and quirky answer, Minerva had turned to him and leant on the desk he was occupying.

"I trust you have picked a witch to study, Mr Weasley?" Minerva asked, pointing to _Hogwarts: A History._

Ron nodded glumly as Minerva gestured with her head for him to open up the book and show her, her gold spectacles that were constantly (to Ron's annoyance) being placed upon her nose, only to be removed seconds later propped upon her stern face. He pointed with his index finger at the chapter he had marked with a star.

"What an innovative choice..." Minerva said dully as she read the name '_Rowena Ravenclaw'_.

Whilst Ron tried hard to decipher whether his Professor's 'innovative' was a good or bad one, Minerva too was deep in thought.

Suddenly, she spoke.

"What do women mean to you, Mr Weasley?"

Ron looked at his teacher confusedly, taken aback by such a question.

"Sorry Professor, I'm not sure what you mean?" He asked.

Minerva lifted herself from the table and stood in front of Ron, rolling her wand subconsciously in her hands.

"Let us digress slightly from your objective, just for a moment. I am asking you what a woman means in your life." She said quietly.

Ronald looked down at the chapter for _Rowena Ravenclaw_ and then back at his Professor, wondering where he had somehow gone wrong to make her stray. His evident look of stupidity told her he still hadn't a bloody clue what she was wittering on about.

"Mr Weasley," Minerva began, placing a fretted palm to her forehead. "Take for instance, myself; what is it that I bring to your life as a woman?"

Horrified, Ron looked down onto the table. Was his teacher coming onto him? Surely _the_ McGonagall didn't know what physical attraction was anymore...

"Ok, let us try this in a different perspective." Minerva whispered exasperated.

She paced back and forth slowly a few times, trying desperately to figure out another way to explain her point of view. If Ronald would only understand what she was trying to tell him, he would finally learn the lesson she was trying to teach him.

"What differs between Professor Snape and me; apart the obvious, _thank you_ Mr Weasley."

Ron had tried to open his mouth but he should have known better his Professor would get there first. He genuinely thought that their difference in sexes was a liable fact. He bit his nails, thinking hard.

"Snape is in Slytherin and you're a Gryffindor?" He asked unsurely.

Minerva sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Look deeper, Ronald."

Again, Ron sat deep in thought for a few minutes. Then, without warning, words drew from his lips.

"Snape is cruel, but you're not..." He began slowly.

"Then, what am I?" Minerva enquired quietly.

"You're mean... Fair, but mean." Ron replied.

Minerva laughed, shaking her head and raising her eyebrows. She decided to take this as a compliment from the ginger haired boy.

"And what else?"

"Snape is always favouring his house, but you don't. You take points off of all 4 houses, including your own. You aren't biased and you believe in everyone, however great or weak their talent." Ron begrudged saying those words, however true they were.

He was being made to sit detention for 30 long days with Professor McGonagall; 30 long, arduous, painful, insufferable and altogether loss-of-will days, but he knew that his teacher would have some form of reasoning behind the matter.

"And as a woman, what do I bring to your life?" Minerva asked as she tried her best to not smirk; she had to remember why she had pulled him into detention in the first place.

Ron thought long and hard about his words, suddenly understanding what his teacher had meant when the question had first arisen. Plucking out the best summary he could for a woman who had made him say "good evening" 6 times over wasn't easy, so he took his time. Looking up to Minerva though, sincerity suddenly flashed in his eyes.

"A maternal fair hand of strength and trust."

It was short, and certainly no essay as his Professor had written on the board as an objective, but it was about all he wanted to sum up. Minerva showed no sign of warm-fuzziness that was inside of her from one of her less admiring students' words. She walked to her desk and sat behind it as Ron's head hung heavily, evidently thinking he had said the wrong thing altogether.

"Very good, Mr Weasley." Minerva stated, Ron's head shooting up in surprise of appraisal. "Now for your homework I want you to write a similar essay on Rowena Ravenclaw and what she has brought to _you_ as an individual."

Ron's smile soon faded; the word _homework_ was enough to wipe the smile off of any idiots face.

"And next detention, we will discuss your Mother." Minerva finished.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Get your ownage out..._


	12. Chapter 12

_Still owning nothing._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve<strong>

It was just after 9pm as Harry, Hermione and Ginny occupied the two large red sofas by the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione sat with book in lap, reading the same line over and over as she thought of Minerva. Harry lay sprawled across the other sofa, Ginny occupying one end with Harry's feet in her lap.

"Good book that one, Hermione?" Ginny asked.

Hermione slowly looked up, both of her friends looking at her expectantly. She hadn't heard any of their conversation since leaving The Great Hall at dinner, but she knew a stupid smile had been gracing her face as she had been reading; in fact, it had been plastered on her for the past 4 days since the dinner date.

"Only you've been reading it in depth for quite some time, you've been on that page for half an hour now." Ginny spoke again smiling encouragingly, pointing her finger and waggling it at the book.

Hermione looked at the girl and boy sat on the adjacent sofa, nodding dumbly without a word, making a smile she thought would be enough to recover from any awkward questions being asked as to the whereabouts of her thoughts.

The door to the Common Room opened and Ron flew in, a frown upon his face; but instead of it being of anger, it was of thought.

"Alright, mate?" Harry asked lazily.

Ron jumped back, looking as if he had seen a ghost. He'd obviously not seen them all sitting there in the now empty living space.

"Um..." He pondered, rubbing his stubble. "Yeah... Yeah I'm good... I'm, just going to go to bed... Night."

Without another word he ran up the stairs, leaving as quickly as he had entered. Hermione's brows raised in wonder of what Minerva might have put him through for such a strange reaction.

"I think that's not a half bad idea." Ginny yawned, lifting Harry's feet and placing them back onto the sofa as she stood. "Goodnight you two."

As she left, both Hermione and Harry chorused their farewells. The Common Room was empty now apart from them, so they smiled at each other and listened to the crackling of the fire for a while. The wonderful thing about Harry's friendship, Hermione thought, was that they didn't have to say anything at all; they simply enjoyed each others company.

Harry scooted up suddenly, lifting his legs and dropping them to be placed upon the floor. Sitting upright comfortably, he patted the space next to him gently for Hermione to join him. Leaving her book and standing, Harry spoke.

"So how's everything with you and Ron going?"

Hermione sighed and placed her hands over her face as she dropped heavily next to her friend.

"I don't know Harry. You saw how he treated me the other night..." Hermione said distressed.

"I know... he was bang out of order, and I told him that too." Harry mumbled quietly.

He rested closer to his friend and placed a flat palm against her back, rubbing it gently.

"It will all be ok, you know?" He asked.

"I don't know, Harry..." Hermione said shakily, placing a hand over her mouth. "He's just been such a git recently."

"I know, and I'm on him, I promise." Harry said encouragingly, raising his eyebrows and smiling a little. "Don't worry, leave Ron to me, he'll be alright."

Hermione looked into Harry's eyes, kindness radiating from them. She smiled gratefully and nodded, placing her hand on his leg and gripping it tightly.

"Good." He said, removing his hand from Hermione's back.

Harry led back into the sofa, placing his hands behind his head to support himself as he smiled.

"So... You and the McG?"

It took Hermione a few seconds to really grasp what Harry had spoken. When her brain cells decided to make contact, her eyes popped and her heart raced.

"What?" She said shortly and as quietly as a mouse.

"You and McGonagall?" Harry asked plainly, still smiling and looking at the fire.

Hermione, perched on the edge of the sofa, licked her lips nervously, her eyes still unblinking. She began to feel sick with worry, _how had he found out?_

"I don't know what you mean..." She breathed, her heart thundering in her chest.

"Oh, I think you do!" Harry guffawed.

He sat up again, facing away from Hermione. Wrapping his arms around himself, he rubbed his hands up and down his sides in an attempt to make it look as if he were mockingly kissing someone. Horrified, Hermione turned away, placing her hands over her face.

"OH NO!" She exclaimed.

Harry turned to face her once again, holding his stomach and laughing quietly to himself. Hermione could hardly breathe as tears began to stream down her face in sheer terror. Her mind was trying to find ways she could cover for such a hideous notion, but too many of her thoughts were flashing through how she was going to lose the relationship she had formed with her Professor.

"Hermione?" Harry asked tentatively.

Hermione shook her head as she heaved great gulps of air in an attempt to stop her panic.

"Hermione... Hermione, it's ok..."

She felt Harry's arms wrap around her and she immediately turned to him for an embrace.

"How in the hell did you find out?" Hermione asked.

Harry laughed through his nose.

"Hermione, you're my best friend. I know when you like someone. I stayed up the night Ron blew up on you to see if you were ok, but you were gone all night. Alarm bells kind of started to ring by then. And all of the smiling, the cheeriness, the laughter, the light heartedness. When I saw you sneak out late Saturday evening, I knew you were up to something and I wanted to see who the guy was. When you weren't back by 11pm, I started to worry and wanted to know who this person was that was keeping you out so late, so instead I stood outside of the Common Room to get a good view. I must admit, I was more than shocked to see you walking with Professor McGonagall. And then beyond more than shocked when she came onto you..."

By now Hermione had dried up, her fear ebbing away at knowing this was her best friend she was speaking to. Harry wouldn't tell a sole if Hermione wished it, and this was a man she could trust and confide in.

"I wanted her to, Harry." Hermione whispered.

"I guessed." Harry smiled, imitating Hermione's curling finger that so readily drew her teacher in.

Groaning at the remembrance, Hermione slumped into the sofa with her hands over her eyes once again.

"Hermione, you're my best friend. But I have to ask you... What _are_ you doing?" Harry asked

in genuine concern for the woman sat next to him.

"I don't know!" Hermione groaned, jumping up from the sofa.

She began pacing in front of the fire, her hand on her hip and the other on her forehead. She proceeded to explain absolutely everything that had happened since the night of their dance up until the present day in a very frenzied and maniacal manner. She hardly even stopped to draw breath.

"But Hermione..." Harry ventured cautiously. "She's our teacher."

"I know, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed exasperatedly.

She finally stopped moving, looking into Harry's eyes with her arms hung heavily by her side.

"But I just can't stop myself." She paused, turning away from him and looking into the fire. "There's this... feeling, inside of me. Every time I see her, or I hear her, think of her, even when someone says her name I go all... jittery. My body feels alive like it's filled with things as soft as butterflies and things as burning as fire and as hard as lightening. I go all goosepimply and silly when she looks at me or calls my name; sometimes it takes me breath away. I can talk to her like I can't talk to anyone else, and confide in her. My heart aches being away from her and longs to spend the days by her side..."

Hermione had drifted off into a dreamlike state; Harry could analyse this even with her back to him. Everything she was saying made complete sense to him, but it seemed so strange that McGonagall could fulfil those things in Hermione; but if Ginny could do that for him too, then why not? After all, McGonagall was indeed their teacher, but she was also a human being, a woman with needs too.

Hermione turned to her best friend who looked at her with complete acceptance. And then she knew this was the time, to admit both to him and more rightly to herself.

"I'm falling in love with her, Harry..." Hermione whispered with a smile as tears began to trickle down her face slowly.

Harry smiled with his mouth closed, not envying the predicament Hermione found herself in. He sighed heavily as he outstretched his arms for her to come to him, and she nodded as she walked to his embrace once again.

"You're secret is safe with me Hermione, you know that. And I won't let McGonagall on that I know, and I'll try and help steer Ron from the situation too."

Hermione gripped tighter to her best friend; he had grown up so much in the last year, to Hermione's relief, otherwise he would never have understood.

"Thank you." She squeaked, removing a handkerchief from her sleeve.

"Is that from...?" Harry began, pointing at the embroidered green 'M' at the corner of the cotton cloth.

Hermione laughed now, smiling widely and nodding her head vigorously.

"What an..." Harry started, as placidly as he could. Finally, he burst into laughter. "Interesting gift!"

Hermione slapped her friend on the leg gently, bending over from her stomach hurting. Their laughter echoed through the room delightfully.

"So... Have you um..." Harry said, wiping his eyes and looking to the woman next to him.

"What?" Hermione laughed, shaking her head.

"You know..." Harry mumbled bashfully, nudging her.

"You mean you're asking me..." Hermione smiled, raising her eyebrows.

"Yeah... Like... Have you done it yet?" He shot out.

Harry wished he hadn't asked, as Hermione slapped him harder on the leg. A frown graced her face, but only momentarily.

"Harry! How can you even ask me such a question!" Hermione shrieked, blush rising in her cheeks.

"You're right, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..." Harry apologised, raising his hands in the air.

For a while they sat in silence, each glancing at each other through the corner of their eyes. They smirked silently to themselves. It was unbearable, hearing the quiet and the dying fire, so Harry spoke first.

"So have you or haven't you?" Harry asked once again.

"For your information," Hermione said, poking Harry on the shoulder. "She has been nothing but patient and courteous."

"So... You haven't?" Harry looked quizzically.

"No, Harry, _we_ haven't." Hermione corrected him.

Harry smirked, feeling proud of his friend. Yes, she had got into a difficult situation, but trust Hermione to handle it with the care and academics it needed. He once again sat back, slouching on the sofa and was just about to talk to Hermione about quidditch when she interrupted him.

"I miss her." Hermione looked gloomily ahead of her, wringing her hands.

"How long has it been?" Harry asked, knowing all too well that hole in your body that could only be filled by that one person.

"Four days..." Hermione answered, bringing the handkerchief to her face.

"Bloody hell Hermione, go to her!" Harry exclaimed, pushing his friend up.

Hermione looked at him dumbfounded and confused as she was made to stand up from her seat.

"Go! Go, for Christ Sake!" Harry laughed, nudging her toward the door.

Hermione smiled at her best friend, giving him one last hug and thanking him as she left through the Common Room door; he always did know what she needed.

* * *

><p><em>AN: More soooon :)_


	13. Chapter 13

_Still, I am owning nothing apart from this story line..._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen<strong>

Minerva lay sprawled out length ways on her sofa in front of the fire, her feet propped up on the arm rest. She had her hands clasped over her stomach that was full and warm from this evenings meal, lowering her eyelids gently and smiling with her mouth closed. She had been on a ridiculously happy high since the dinner date with Hermione, the touch of the younger woman's lips still lingering on her own. She had started to nod off when a soft knock came at her door.

Fluttering her eyes open unwillingly, she growled quietly as she swung her legs off of the sofa and stood up.

"Coming!" She called too cheerily, wincing at hearing how false she sounded.

Placing her hand on the door knob she smoothed her robes down to rid the creases; _I'd better look at least half presentable for the teacher on the other side and not as if I've dozed off like some little old lady on her own_. Upon opening the door, her breath was taken away as Hermione lent against the frame, one hand on hip and the other above her head.

"Evening." She smiled quietly.

"Hello." Minerva managed, stepping out of the way in a silent invitation for Hermione to enter.

Hermione screwed her face up, beaming in elation at the reaction she had just received whilst Minerva busied behind her grabbing glasses and a bottle of wine. Hermione purposefully stood by the sofa, staring expectantly at her Professor. She waited patiently until she caught the attention of the eldest witch, and with one knee popped, her shoulders back and her arms loosely hung by her side, she sat down gracefully laying herself against the back of the sofa whilst crossing her legs and propping herself up with her elbow.

Minerva sat beside her, a cool and calm expression on her face. She smiled at Hermione as she poured two large glasses of wine, but the younger woman could see her nostrils flaring as she tried to slow down her breathing. The eldest witch cleared her throat as she passed the glass to Hermione.

"How have you been?" She asked quietly, settling back herself.

"Ok. You?" Hermione asked coyly.

"Ok." Minerva replied promptly.

Minerva rapped her fingers against the arm rest, desperate not to look at the smouldering eyes of the woman sat beside her. Her heart had started to pound in her chest at that look since Hermione had entered, but not through fear; through longing, passion and desire. She took sips of wine from her glass to calm her nerves, and other thoughts amongst them. The room seemed to have gotten awfully hot since the woman beside Minerva had been present in her company, so she fanned herself then loosened her lace collar from the top slightly. She tapped her foot rhythmically and quite hard on the carpeted floor, seemingly innocent to the average witch or wizard; what this really was, was a sign of an exceedingly anxious and altogether under-pressured Minerva. Keeping calm and having your wits about you with someone so fiery as Hermione, someone who had ignited your dreams and fantasies once again, who had made you remember what it was like to feel pleasure, was evidently proving rather difficult.

Hermione placed her wine glass down, after not touching a drop. She then proceeded to take Minerva's glass and place it alongside hers on the coffee table.

"I've missed you." Hermione sultry whispered.

Minerva inhaled deeply, desperate for strength to not look into those eyes. All would be lost if she were to weaken.

"God, I've missed you too..." Minerva growled.

She had weakened. Looking to Hermione, something sparked within her, not giving her a chance for any self control or second thoughts. She slid herself closely to the younger woman, never taking her eyes away from the deep brown pools. Hermione, who had been playing cool all of this time suddenly straightened her back like a rod, moaning quietly under her breath and rolling her eyes as her teacher crept her hands around her chin, passed her cheeks and into her hair that hung loosely in waves of silkiness. Minerva moved forward with aching slowness, Hermione's hands resting behind her neck gently; the palms sweaty and hot against Minerva's skin. The elder witch placed their noses together, and for a while she stopped there in that limbo, savouring every breath Hermione panted onto her face. Her eyes bore deeply into the younger witch's as her lips began to tingle, her heart hurting from the closeness of the woman she had craved for the past 4 days. And finally, when both women could wait no longer, Minerva's lips descended upon Hermione's softly, a touch that was indescribable for both witches. Each drawing in a gasp of air sharply at the long awaited sensation, their lips moving painfully slow across one another in yearn and feelings that could never be spoken by either witch. They glided, so much like their dance; together in rhythm, body and mind as Minerva ran a finger down Hermione's arm to rest on her waist. The younger woman practically flew with the feeling, opening her mouth wider onto the other to give her entrance and pleading for more silently.

Minerva drew her closer, their bodies entwining as Hermione's legs swung gently over the elders lap. Their chests were together now as Hermione ran a flat hand up and down Minerva's back, sending chills and goose pimples down her spine to radiate all over her body beautifully in ripples of bliss. Her heart shot thunderbolts to her abdomen several times over, Hermione delving hungrily but slowly with her tongue to join Minerva's. They both moaned quietly in unison, and the sound of each other's mewls made both women equally aroused.

A fire like no other tore through them, a need for both women to express and communicate. Minerva straightened her back as she pushed Hermione into the sofa, her mouth moving quicker as she grasped the back of the woman's head. Hermione too grappled for more as she pandered to her teacher, grunting with every exhale of breath. She willed Minerva to move to her cheek and jaw line, moving her head back and to the side as her legs swung free and were placed firmly onto the ground. Chest heaving, Minerva obliged although returning to her softer, slower state. She nestled herself happily in Hermione's neck, kissing gently and nudging her ear lobe fleetingly with her nose to get that gasp she loved to hear so much from the talented lips of this woman. Hermione writhed beneath her slowly, lifting her hips from the sofa, smoothing parts of Minerva unconsciously; the feel of the elder woman beneath her both joyous and tantalising. Hermione felt herself losing power, weakening to the woman's touch who could already play her body so well. Minerva became wild as one of those unconscious hands happened to brush her bosom, whether meaning to or not, pushing herself closer against Hermione as she groaned quietly into her ear.

Even the sound of Minerva's pleasures sent Hermione reeling, allowing her mouth to hang open and a moan to exit herself. She fumbled for Minerva's hand, caught tightly in her hair but the use of her limbs seemed both difficult and pointless. Minerva too felt herself losing control, unclasping the firm grip she had latched on to Hermione's hair, stroking her way down the younger woman's neck, chest bone and finally to settle on her swollen breast.

She brushed gently with her thumb, their bodies rising and falling together. The young woman made a guttural moan as Minerva released herself from the depths of Hermione's neck, swallowing the sounds that erupted so involuntarily from the young woman's mouth as the eldest woman caressed the mound that was now becoming taught and wanton. Hermione deftly began to undo the first few top buttons of the maroon polo-shirt she was wearing, pulling the collar back and revealing to Minerva skin and access to her bra.

The elder witch hummed in satisfaction and slowly once more Minerva traced light kisses along Hermione's shoulder, down to the lining of her brassiere that was white and soft against her swollen lips. The younger woman now bucked up into the eldest, her breathing heavy and her eyes closed.

"Hermione... I can't." Minerva said quietly, sitting up.

Hermione opened her eyes slowly as she saw stars sparkle in front of her teachers face. She rolled onto her side to face the woman beside her.

"Is it me?" She asked genuinely, frowning slightly and still hazy from her arousal.

"Oh no, dearest, no..." Minerva pleaded, kissing Hermione once again. "It's never you, you are wonderful. I just feel that in doing this now, however much I want it, and I truly do, that I am degrading you."

Minerva looked down at her hands, flicking her thumb nails beneath each other.

"And I don't want that." Minerva said, choking up and tears forming in her eyes.

Hermione's face contorted in sympathy for the woman sat beside her, her heart beaming even more now than it had a few minutes before. She placed her legs once again over Minerva's lap, looking deeply into the woman's green eyes.

"I want to make you feel special, and worthy. Not some quick thing in my chamber. You are so much more than that to me; a proper time, a proper place." Minerva said, flinging her arms in desperation at her quarters.

Hermione silenced her Professor with a slow and sensual kiss, running her hand over Minerva's hair but not quite having the courage to undo and let it fall yet.

"I agree, Professor." Hermione said quietly and sincerely.

"Minerva." The elder corrected.

Hermione blushed, looking away and smiling. Minerva's hand caught her chin gently, bringing Hermione's eyes back to her own.

"Minerva." Hermione whispered happily.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Hope it was ok_


	14. Chapter 14

_.Nothing._

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><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen<strong>

It was fast approaching mid November and the timing could not be happier for Ronald Weasley.

Yes, today marked indeed a special occasion. A celebratory day, a joyous date in which Ron felt humbled and elated.

Today, was his last detention with Professor McGonagall.

He strode confidently and coyly, swinging his arms back and forth jauntily. He entered the Transfiguration classroom much the same, a stupid smile on his face as he walked up to his teacher. Minerva had her back to him, wiping off the blackboard absentminded; she did like to do it by hand once in a while. What she really enjoyed about doing things by hand was that it gave her the chance to think of Hermione, and how much they had grown as two women together. They had both decided to wait, but still they went to dinner, spent time together reading and talking and laughing. They had kissed, but nothing like that night had been.

"Good evening, Professor!" Ron chimed, smiling widely.

Minerva jumped slightly at Ron's low manly tone, as she had been imagining Hermione's voice in her head. She turned to see him leant against her desk with a toothy grin, his posture that of a typical teenaged boy.

"Good evening, Mr Weasley. Now take a proper seat please..." Minerva demanded sternly.

"Will do!" Ron enthused, swinging off of her desk and into the front row.

He sat heavily in his chair, leaning his elbow on the desk and his head in his hand. Minerva eyed Ronald suspiciously down her nose, raising her brows in confusion as to why the boy was so... happy. And then it hit her; their detentions.

Ending.

Tonight.

Minerva smirked, almost evilly, as she drew her wand from her robe pocket to roll delightfully between her fingers. She paced slowly with wide strides across the width of her classroom in front of Ron, her chin in the air as she gathered her thoughts.

"Mr Weasley..." Minerva began.

"Yo!" Ron replied quickly, leaning onto the back legs of his chair.

Then she was right; _He hasn't learnt his lesson after all._

'_The moody git'_, as Hermione liked to call it, had returned in full swing. In fact, the young woman was only telling Minerva yesterday that over the past week Ron's attitude of sly remarks had started once again.

So Minerva decided.

"Tell me, Mr Weasley, what do you think our wise and talented teacher of Divination, Professor Trelawney?"

Ron snorted, leaning forward and rubbing his hand across his mouth.

"Not being funny, but are you talking about the same Trelawney that I'm thinking?" Ron asked.

He began to chuckle horribly, Minerva eyes thinning into slits as she looked upon the jesting boy.

"Sybil Trelawney, head of Divination. A colourful and delightful character." Minerva stated.

Again, Ron snorted, only louder.

"Yeah, colourful alright..."

He rubbed his hands over his face, laughing.

Minerva sighed, smiling as she walked her way to Ron's desk. She set her hands wide apart with perfect precision onto the table and leant forward to become level with the ginger haired boy's eyes, her wand still held threateningly in his hands.

"Do you think you will _always_ be able to treat women in this manner?" Minerva whispered.

Ron's smile faded immediately, bringing his hands to lay flat upon the desk. He looked upon his teacher with wide eyes, reassuring himself he hadn't heard what he thought he had.

"What?" He asked uncertainly.

Minerva inhaled sharply through her nose, her mouth scowling. Beneath her lips, her teeth clenched hard, grinding at the back, completely infuriated. Her eyes were unblinking and bore holes into Ron's as she lifted herself from his desk and pulled herself up to her full height.

"You will continue your detentions until I see fit that you have learnt some form of respect." She said sweetly.

Ron looked dumbfounded, his mouth now hanging open with shock.

"What? I don't... You can't do that..." He said quietly.

"Oh, Mr Weasley. I think you'll find I can." Minerva replied, seating herself behind her desk.

"By tomorrow I expect a 3 foot essay as to why you think you should carry on these detentions." Minerva instructed, placing her spectacles upon the end of her nose.

"3 foot!" Ron exclaimed.

Minerva exhaled audibly.

"Yes, Mr Weasley, _3 foot_. Now go." Minerva said shortly, waving her hand toward the door to the classroom.

Ron didn't move an inch, merely stared at his Professor. Minerva looked up at him trying not to laugh at herself.

"I said, _go_!" She repeated much more sternly.

Ron practically flew out, grabbing his things and running toward the door, slamming it on exit.

She knew that she had to do this for the right reasons; Ron _would_ benefit from learning how to treat a woman right. Finally, Minerva let out a small chuckle.

_This is going to be fun._

* * *

><p><em>AN: Mwahahahaha  
><em>


	15. Chapter 15

_I still don't own anything apart from this story..._

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><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen<strong>

Minerva sat in the tall standing living room, feeling humble and contented. Christmas day had been lonely, but that was of a normal situation. Minerva McGonagall had spent every Christmas alone since her father had died, merely through the fact of having no family left to celebrate with. She mourned the first four years she spent pottering around by herself, but then it became routine, much like everything else in life.

She would enjoy the stillness, the quiet that surrounded _McGonagall Manor_ most of the time: the empty living spaces homely, the vacant chairs company. In fact it gave her more time to reflect upon everything that had happened in the last 3 months of school every year; she had nothing but interruptions when at Hogwarts.

She slowly sipped the fire whiskey that had been handed as a present to her from Filius. The liquid filled her tummy with warmth and comfort, signs that should always be associated with Christmas. Her feet were rested on a black leather foot stool, her head led heavily on the tall backed fabric armchair she occupied. She looked lazily out of the window to the front drive, snow falling heavily layering the ground thick with white. Minerva had been seated there for three hours, checking the drive way and enjoying her drink.

This year, Minerva had looked forward to getting Christmas day over with, because Boxing day brought Hermione. Minerva had pondered that late November evening away, trying to find the right moment to ask Hermione, or even whether she should ask her at all. She had evidently seemed distant.

"_Is everything alright, Minerva?"_

_Hermione was resting on her chest; curled up on the sofa opposite the fire. She had been staring into the abyss, forming words in her head to ask the woman that was so readily comfortable in the arms of her tutor, in the arms of her; Minerva._

"_Yes." She had nodded._

"_What have you been thinking all evening?" Hermione asked, rubbing her leg soothingly._

_She had rolled her eyes and placed a hand over them, bracing herself for the let down of a life time._

"_Would you like to spend some time with me over Christmas at my home?"_

And simply, Hermione had accepted. Her car drew into the drive cautiously, the ice on the road quite bad in the highlands of Scotland this time of year.

* * *

><p>Hermione had been wondering her whole car journey how on earth to even approach just the door of Minerva's home, but she needn't have worried, as on arrival at the steps leading up to it the door flung open wide. Minerva stood in robes of red silk fitting tightly to her slender body, a smile that graced her face making it soft and kind. She held her arms out toward the younger woman, curling her fingers softly just once, beckoning for her to be held.<p>

Admittedly, Hermione had been feeling nervous for the past two weeks, even though Minerva and she had been sharing owls daily. But as the young woman's foot fell onto the first slippery stone step up to _McGonagall Manor_, her heart thundered madly in her chest, fear rising in her as her palms became sweaty with anxiety. Numbly she walked toward Minerva, who's hands clasped her shoulders firmly and pulled her gently in for a warm embrace. Their lips met fleetingly; Minerva pulling away before Hermione could begin to think of reciprocating as the fear became more so. It was an ache, a dull pain that seemed to sit knotted in her stomach. A feeling of inadequacy, a worry of not being good enough, or quite up to standard as her Professor may have expected. After all, this was a completely different setting than that of school; things could change, or be different.

She froze suddenly looking around Minerva's home as she stepped into the large and open reception area; the grey stone walls were covered in pictures of her family, lavished with grand golden frames. In every painting, each witch or wizard was so obviously happy, especially one of what Hermione could deduce as the whole McGonagall family; she was sure she even spotted a teenaged Minerva. The dark oak wooden stairs were straight ahead, set widely and covered in a red velvet carpet through the middle. Above her, candles floated without any support, much like that of The Great Hall back at Hogwarts, a large crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling for aesthetic purposes. Its glass hangings sparkled from the flames nearby, sending reflections onto the large Gryffindor flag that sat proudly on the wall of the landing visible from the front door. The place was elegantly covered with dainty and ornamental Christmas decorations; wreaths of green, gold and red, holly and ivy entwined up the staircase, tinsel and bows draped across the pictures frames, and to the back left of the reception, a tall standing Christmas tree decorated heavily but tastefully.

"Not me by the way, my house elf, Mixy..." Minerva said beside her, splaying her arms to the grandeur.

Hermione jumped slightly, being lost in her own world for evidently some time. She looked toward Minerva and smiled awkwardly, moving her weight from one foot to the other.

"Can I take your cloak?" Minerva asked, raising her brows and pointing to Hermione's clasp.

Looking down at herself and looking back up, Hermione realised she hadn't even dropped her suitcase since leaving the car, and nodded dumbly.

Minerva gently fingered the silver clip of Hermione's outer cloak, and once it had popped, she removed it from the younger woman's shoulders.

"Welcome." She smiled.

Walking slowly and quietly over to the cloak stand, Minerva took a deep breath. There was tension; she could feel it as an energy. Trying desperately not to panic, she instructed Mixy to take Hermione's suitcase and asked the young woman into the living room where she had been previous to said woman's arrival. She cast the fire a few more flames from the tip of her wand to keep it from dying down, the room warm and cosy.

"How was your journey?" Minerva asked quietly, pouring Hermione a drink.

"Um... slippery." She laughed nervously; occupying the armchair opposite to the one Minerva had obviously been seated.

Minerva chuckled, walking toward Hermione with wine glass in one hand, small tumbler in the other.

"That tends to be the case with so much snow." Minerva stated, wincing at how obvious her answer had been.

"Indeed it is..." Hermione laughed nervously again, taking the wine cup from Minerva.

They both took their time about sipping their drinks, neither witch looking at the other. Minerva couldn't help but feel disheartened; she'd obviously made Hermione feel awfully uncomfortable. Perhaps the young woman had felt obliged to accept the invitation? Perhaps she had read the scene completely wrong?

A small vibrating noise pierced Minerva's thoughts, looking up at Hermione. The young woman's eyes widened, looking down toward her bag as music started to play from inside of it. She placed the wine cup gently on the small wooden table to her left, searching frantically in the satchel she had brought with her. Minerva looked puzzled as she brought out a small rectangular contraption, the sound and vibration now louder than ever. Hermione looked up apologetically, excusing herself as she pressed with her index finger on the rectangle and stood up.

"Hello? Yes, Mum, I'm fine... Look, I've literally only just arrived..."

Minerva could hear Hermione talking into the rectangular device in the reception area from her seat, and she smiled as the woman talked agitatedly to her Mother. She wondered to herself what Hermione had told her family; whether she had lied and said she was staying with the Weasley's, or whether she would say she was truly staying with Minerva.

"Yeah, it's really snowing her too, worst than London... Yes, I was careful; you can tell Dad I didn't hit over 20 miles per hour. Oh Mum, it's really lovely here..."

Minerva smiled broadly; she had hoped Hermione would like her home.

"Yes, we are; the Professor and I are just having something to drink..."

Minerva felt her heart hit her stomach and come back up again. _Professor?_ Hermione had been calling Minerva by her first for nearly 2 months now. Perhaps it was just something she used with her parents, easier than explaining a name...

"Yes Mum, I will take care... I will tell her, yes. Ok... Ok... _Ok_! Mum, look, I'm going. I love you... Yeah, ye-... I love you too Dad... Have fun too! Bye!"

Minerva watched as Hermione pressed the rectangular thing once again, rolling her eyes as she dropped it back into her bag.

"I'm so sorry about that Professor... My Mum says Merry Christmas."

"Oh, please, it's absolutely fine, I'd be the same..." Minerva smiled, trying her hardest to keep her fear at bay.

"They just don't realise that I'm an adult now..." Hermione sighed.

"They never will." Minerva retorted cheerily.

They both laughed quietly, sipping their drinks.

* * *

><p>Minerva had quietly asked Mixy to change the seating arrangement at the table from two places next to each other to two places either end of the dinner table whilst Hermione had popped to her room to freshen up. The elder witch had already positioned Hermione in the biggest guest room that overlooked the most stunning view of the manors many acres; she thought it courtesy to offer the woman her own decision as to where she would like to stay; in the guest bedroom.<p>

Or with Minerva.

The elder witch had thought hard about her decision; but she would accept Hermione's advances and have her stay in her bed, if that is what the younger woman wanted.

Minerva knew that is what she herself wanted.

But she knew that she would also wait for Hermione, until the time was right for both of them.

* * *

><p>"Oh my God I think I'm in heaven." Hermione exclaimed.<p>

Sitting at the dinner table by candle light, both witches were tucking into their main course of lamb casserole with creamed mashed potato and extra vegetables.

"Again, I'm afraid I can't take credit; Mixy is a little life saver really..." Minerva said quietly, bringing another forkful to her mouth.

Hermione nodded and hummed her agreement as she chewed on her food. She had noticed that they were sitting a fair way from each other; perhaps Minerva had changed her mind and Hermione's worst fears were actually true. She'd not once made a pass at Hermione, and therefore the younger witch, not wanting to make the eldest feel awkward in her own home, had kept herself to herself. The tension seemed awfully high for the first time in their three month arrangement. It was an uneasy feeling which Hermione detested. Why it had changed, she wasn't so sure.

* * *

><p>"Well then, time for bed I think..." Minerva said quietly, taking the wine glass from Hermione's hand as the young woman began nodding off once more.<p>

"Hmm?" Hermione asked innocently.

Minerva smiled as she looked down at Hermione, curled into the armchair snugly.

"You've had a very long day, let us retire." Minerva whispered gently.

Hermione nodded glumly, knowing Minerva to be right. She stood and stretched as the eldest witch took their glasses back to the drinks cabinet.

"Have things been a bit... odd?" Hermione questioned suddenly.

Minerva had her back to the woman who had just spoken, her eyes closing and licking her lips nervously.

"They have seemed rather..." She hesitated. "Odd."

Hermione nodded slowly once again, walking toward the fire.

"I don't know why..." She said thoughtfully.

"Neither do I." Minerva answered truthfully, turning around.

The eldest witch surveyed the youngest who now leant gently on the mantel piece. She suddenly looked down and her hand came to her face, wiping her cheek quickly. Minerva strode quickly to Hermione's side, brushing the hair from her face.

"I'm sorry..." Hermione apologised, shaking her head as if to rid the tears.

"There is no need to be." Minerva said lowly.

Hermione turned her head towards Minerva, their eyes connecting. For a while they locked, unable to think or move, but only feel. Feel the spark lighten, feel the fear ebb away, to feel the fire in their abdomen and their heads begin to whirr, feel their hearts racing as Minerva's hand caught Hermione's cheek and their lips finally brushed together.

Like a bubble being popped, the tension diminished as they fell into each others arms. They became a tangled mess of limbs quite quickly, each woman wrapping their arms tightly around the others neck. Their lips moved slowly, but both with equal need, tongues lightly touching every now and again. The panting through their noses caused both witches to become head dizzy, and they were forced to break for breath. But they held each other close, making a tight and protected cocoon around each other with their arms. Noses gently bumped against each other, eyes locked determinedly, the youngest witch sighed heavily.

"What's wrong?" Minerva whispered.

"Nothing." Hermione smiled, pecking the lips of the woman so close to her.

"What now?" Minerva asked lovingly, nudging Hermione's nose once again.

"Your bedroom..." Hermione whispered desperately, closing her eyes and panting at her own words.

Minerva bit her lip hard, rolling her eyes at how lucky she felt just at those words.

"Very well." She whispered.

Unlocking her arms from Hermione, she took the hand of the younger witch and led her from the living room and up the stairs to her bedroom.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry! But atleast it's up, right? :)_


	16. Chapter 16

_Own nothing... bad times... Well apart from the story anyways..._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen<strong>

Not a word was passed between the two women as they climbed the first flight of steps to the upper landing, passing by the Gryffindor flag and along a straight narrow corridor.

Hermione looked to her right as they passed by the door of her room she had been allocated, Minerva holding her hand tightly running a gentle thumb over Hermione's palm. They rounded a corner to their left into another corridor that was a lot shorter but wider. As they walked toward the door at the end of the hallway, Hermione looked around her; the walls were plastered with names, faces and painted vines with blossoming roses that opened as they passed by. Beside the door they had arrived at, a small golden plaque read: 'The McGonagall Family Tree'. Hermione smiled as she looked to her right, spying a very young Minerva, beside her Brother and under her Mother and Father. She really hadn't changed at all, and resembled a frightening similarity to her elegant and beautiful Mother.

Minerva had already stepped inside to her bedroom, but Hermione stood stock still, smiling dumbly and staring at the wall opposite her. Minerva turned to face the young woman, taking Hermione's hand in both of her own and admiring the witch's profile.

"It's just you now, isn't it?" Hermione asked softly, keeping her eyes on the wall.

"Yes, it is." Minerva replied quietly, walking toward Hermione and standing beside her.

She looked upon her Brother, her Father, her Mother. She had lost them now to just mere memories, and even those were fading with time. It had been a long while since she had felt something real; she still clung to Hermione's hand with her right, her left fingers moving upward to grip the same arm tightly. Minerva sighed heavily, smiling at her immediate family, and to herself that was 50 years younger.

"You're much more beautiful now." Hermione whispered after a moment.

Minerva's heart exploded as her eyes fell slowly onto Hermione's. The young woman smiled at her with tears forming in her lower lash line, biting her lip to stop it from trembling.

"I'm frightened." She whispered, laughing nervously and looking down.

Minerva took Hermione's other hand, bringing them to her lips and kissing them gently.

"You don't have to do this Hermione." Minerva stated earnestly.

Fear coursed through Hermione's veins, her heart hammering so hard against her chest she could hear it outside of her body. Her hands were encased by that of Minerva's, feeling her rosy pink, soft lips playing homage to her knuckles. She could sense her underwear becoming uncomfortably wet, her breasts beginning to ache for the touch of Minerva's slender and wonderful fingers. She had a wave of goose pimples come over her, starting from her arms and rushing over her body to her ankles. As Minerva planted one last kiss onto Hermione's hands, the young woman could feel the warm saliva of the elders tongue hit the now sensitive skin sitting under Minerva's lips, and a moan wanted so desperately to escape from Hermione's lungs.

"I do want to do this." She managed to breathe, pulling herself closer to Minerva and wrapping her arms around the woman's slender hips.

Minerva pressed her forehead heavily against Hermione's, closing her eyes.

"If at any time you want to stop I really won't mi-"

"I won't want to stop." Hermione interrupted.

She began planting light kisses upon the elders angular chin and jaw line, feeling Minerva shudder beneath her finger tips as they moved from her hips to her tummy and torso. Minerva's breathing had also quickened, her cheeks becoming flushed and the peak of her hairline becoming slightly damp as dew formed on her skin.

Hermione dropped her hand to catch Minerva's, and it was now she that led them into the bedroom, sitting on the large double bed as Minerva closed the door. The elders' room was large and minimalist, much unlike Minerva but still tasteful.

"I don't spend much time here..." She laughed quietly, seeing the look on Hermione's face as the young woman scanned the room.

"I think it's perfect." Hermione smiled suddenly, scooting back onto the bed.

Minerva sat beside Hermione's feet on the edge of the bed, smoothing her shin with the tips of her fingers. Goose pimples rose on the woman's skin beneath Minerva's digits, and she smiled as she began to play with Hermione's high heeled shoes.

"This is a first time, isn't it?" Minerva asked, looking toward Hermione.

The young woman nodded with wide eyes silently. Minerva too nodded in acknowledgement, looking back down toward Hermione's shins.

"Will you let me make love to you? Would you like me to?" Minerva whispered.

Hermione moaned as Minerva grasped her calve gently with the full of her hand, squeezing it with need.

"God yes..." She whispered, laying back into the duvet.

Minerva sighed gratefully; to finally show Hermione how much she meant to the eldest witch was what she had wanted for so long. And now, as she led herself upon Hermione's body, feeling it pulse as she panted, feeling the heat radiating from her and watching her eyes flutter, Minerva nestled herself into the young woman's neck once again, nuzzling her nose up to her ear lobe.

"I love you, Hermione." Minerva whispered with her eyes tightly shut.

Hermione leant her head back into the mattress as she moaned quietly.

"I love you too, Minerva."

* * *

><p>"Touch me, oh God Minerva, please touch me..."<p>

Minerva had slowly and sensually undressed Hermione and herself, both women led sprawled on the bed. Their skin touching felt like an ecstasy beyond all measures to both witches, as if they had never felt anything press the delicate covering of their bodies before.

"Not yet my love, it will feel better if we wait."

Hermione lay flat on the bed, her back arching upward to feel more of Minerva's body on her own, head pressed back firmly into the plump and silky pillows. She groaned quietly into the mouth of her lover as their tongues played gently and lovingly, delving ever deeper into one another as their arousal heightened with a passion neither one had felt previous.

"But I want you..."

Minerva's lips were forced to Hermione's neck as the young woman pulled away to groan her plead. She was led beside Hermione, her long legs entwined gently with the woman who led writhing slowly in her arms. Minerva's body felt on fire, her groin aching for release. Her heart hammered persistently and painfully in her chest at the sight of Hermione's naked body before her, a sight that had never aroused or excited her so much before in her life.

"Patience dearest, patience..."

Minerva heard her own words, but didn't adhere as she began to move her hand over to Hermione's firm bosom. She grasped it surely and fully in her hand, moving circles with her palm as she pulled upward gently. Hermione moaned in gratification, her mouth hanging open wide. Minerva proceeded without haste to gently take Hermione's hardened nipple between her index finger and thumb, squeezing tight and rolling it slowly.

"Oh God..." Hermione moaned, moving upward to Minerva's touch.

The eldest witch exhaled slowly, trying to keep her own arousal under control as Hermione's hand began to smooth her thigh in appreciation of her ministrations. With every upward stroke, the young woman's hand came dangerously close to Minerva's now dripping heat, and the elder witch began to feel herself losing control to her lover as she subconsciously bucked her hips toward Hermione's hand.

But Hermione was her priority, so in order to keep herself in check she slid her hand slowly across Hermione's quivering tummy and to the curly hair that sat on her pubic bone. Hermione whimpered several times, her own hand stopping its seductive streak, coming to rest on the sheets as she fisted them. The young woman threw her hips toward the ceiling desperately.

"Please..."

Minerva's palm pressed against Hermione's mound as her middle and index fingers lengthened out either side of her lovers' woman hood. She curved her digits to bring her nails gently across Hermione's skin, dragging upward and inward. The eldest witch could already feel the wet that had been brewing between Hermione's thighs, her nub peaking out shyly between her swollen folds. Minerva gently brushed her middle finger across the plump and moist piece of flesh, Hermione gasping at the sensation then groaning at the immediate absence of Minerva's touch.

Running her lips across Hermione's cheek gently, Minerva held her fingertips at the top of her lovers opening, shaking slightly from her own excitement.

"Now, Minerva, more..."

Groaning herself at Hermione's words, Minerva crept her fingers downward, parting the younger woman's folds delicately. She ran a soft finger across Hermione's taught nub, her legs parting widely setting her feet flat against the mattress. Minerva rolled circles around Hermione, feeling the flesh beneath her pulse with want; teasing her to distraction. The eldest witch alternated between one and two fingers, pressing slightly harder down when she passed so fleetingly across the place that made Hermione gasp with pleasure.

Beads of sweat began to drip from both women's bodies as they started to roll their hips in sync. Hermione was panting incessantly, her eyes closed gently then tighter still as she moaned in bliss. Minerva looked upon the younger woman with lidded eyes, her pupils large as she saw stars sparkle before her. Her breathing too was laboured, but her mouth remained closed in a small smile to prevent any interrupting moans to Hermione's pleasuring experience.

"Oh God Minerva, I love you..." Hermione breathed wantonly.

With an urge of extended arousal and a painful pulse from her heart, Minerva's fingers sped up on Hermione's slick woman hood, her hand vibrating quickly across the now blood filled nub. She had her free arm wrapped under Hermione's neck but was just able to reach her left breast to squeeze. The woman in her arms moaned gutturally, long and hard, air rushing from her lungs as her eyes shot open and rolled back into her head. Minerva could feel her walls beginning to clench just seeing Hermione in so much bliss; the perfect form of a woman.

"By Merlin, you're beautiful Hermione."

A whispered sentence from the woman holding her made Hermione want to topple over the edge. Her legs were beginning to shake from the extreme pleasure being applied to her centre, a wave of sheer wonder falling over her every thrust of her hips. She moaned loudly, hardly drawing breath between each sound coming deep from within her. Hermione felt Minerva shift slightly, replacing her fingers with a thumb that shot straight down but stopped moving. She felt her own nub pulse against the pressure, ceasing in her groans and panting hard. Minerva's fingers came to rest gently on her opening, silently asking Hermione for permission to enter. Opening her eyes and looking straight into the green orbs of her lover, Hermione nodded.

She felt Minerva's fingers apply pressure to her, wiggling gently to get in. Two fingers easily inserted her, making Hermione gasp with the unusual and foreign sensation. The elder witch slowly eased her way out slightly, to plunge further into the depths of Hermione. The young woman moaned, feeling a sharp twang of pleasure course through her. Minerva's fingers curved slightly, the rhythm quickening and her thumb rubbing hard on its button.

Hermione began to moan once again, rubbing her hips hard against Minerva's hand. The elder witch could feel her lovers walls beginning to tighten almost instantly, so she moved her fingers with more vigour than ever before.

Hermione felt herself beginning to peak with every stroke of Minerva's fingers within her, as if on a buzz she had never been before. Her moans became higher in pitch and breathier as she mounted to her orgasm, her jaw opening and closing in a failed bid to form words. She felt as if every pour was bursting with passion and love, she felt beautiful and wanted, the woman she loved led beside her needing to make love to her.

With one final thrust, plunge and circle, Hermione came hard, her walls clenching desperately around Minerva's fingers and her nub contracting under thumb. She pumped harder into Minerva's hand that still worked her wet and spent core, softly massaging her come down with every ounce of love left within her. Hermione shouted Minerva's name, wanting the whole world to know what this wonderful woman could do.

The young woman suddenly became rigid, gasping sharply and holding Minerva's arm still.

"Alright dear." She whispered softly, kissing Hermione's temple. "Breathe out for me."

As the young woman did so, Minerva swiftly removed her hand from within Hermione, bringing the young woman's sweetness out with her. She held Hermione close to her tightly, feeling every move from her lover's body as it still quivered from lust.

Hermione moaned quietly as Minerva's foot rubbed her own, feeling exhaustion take her over as she gently closed her eyes and snuggled further into the elder witches hold. Minerva's lips pressed gently on her crown several times.

"I love you." She whispered.

Hermione could but merely smile as she drifted off into slumber, Minerva's arms safely encasing her.

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><p><em>AN: Veeery nervous about uploading this, please say you liked it?_


	17. Chapter 17

_I DO own this story line, but nothing else._

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><p><strong>Chapter Seventeen<strong>

Minerva looked straight into her loves eyes, kissing the swollen lips of Hermione. The young woman's body shuddered as she extended her neck, offering a canvas of bare skin for the eldest to paint with her lips.

Hermione had awoken in Minerva's arms, her body spent from the previous bout of love making but flushed with a feverous arousal as her eyes connected with her lovers green orbs once more. Minerva had spent no time in hesitation, and proceeded to fulfil the young woman's needs for blissful release.

The elder witch now led flat on her tummy, placing kisses below Hermione's belly-button as her legs widened, her diaphragm expanding in and out rapidly. Oh how Minerva loved the feel of Hermione already; her goose pimpled skin, the firmness in her breast, her curvaceous hips. She revelled in the sights of the faint hair trail from her pubis to her belly-button, the birthmark on her right thigh, the way her jaw wiggled then shuddered as her teeth chattered together in anticipation for Minerva to finally permit her the pleasure she was so desperate to experience once again.

"Mmmm." Minerva purred as she hovered teasingly close to Hermione's centre.

"Oh God... Minerva!" Said Hermione with plead and frustration, using all of her will not to push her hips toward the woman's lips. "What is it?"

Looking up to Hermione between the 'V' of her legs, her bosoms like two valleys framing her face as she pressed her head back gently into the pillow, her brows furrowed as if concentrating on a Runes Translation, Minerva couldn't help but smile.

"You, my dearest: You..."

Hermione groaned and widened her legs; hearing her elder lovers thick burr full of arousal made her insides heat and dance like butterflies.

"So...so very, very beautiful." Minerva moaned quietly, kissing Hermione's thigh.

Hermione gave a louder groan this time; Minerva spotting the damp patch Hermione had begun to create on the silky duvet.

"Please, Minerva... Please..." Hermione begged quietly.

"Hush, my love, I'm here..." Minerva whispered.

As Minerva moved closer to Hermione's seeping centre, she blew gently which made the opening to her lovers entrance spasm slightly. Minerva felt a rush of liquid escape between her own thighs just at the sight; gosh, what this woman, this creature, her love, could do to her. She used her thumbs to part Hermione's slickened folds, gaining access to the plump and ripened goal she had been heading for since the young woman's thigh.

Hermione felt the exquisite blowing cease, and then for a short while; nothing. Only Minerva's hands on either side of her woman hood that throbbed for the elder. A panic hit Hermione suddenly; maybe something was wrong down there. Perhaps Minerva hadn't liked what she had seen and was too polite to say so. Maybe it was because she was all wet and Minerva thought her too easily aroused. Perhaps it could be-

Just as Hermione craned her neck to look down at her lover puzzled, she was greeted with the sight of Minerva's tongue descending slowly onto her tightened nub.

"Ohhh yesss, that's it." Hermione whispered to Minerva.

Minerva hummed and moaned in approval, vibrating against Hermione's organ as her tongue swirled circles of delight. She pouted her lips, squeezing and sucking Hermione fully into her warm and wet mouth. Again, another hum of approval and rolling of eyes came from the eldest woman, as with greater arousal she sucked harder and flicked quicker with her tongue.

Hermione gasped at the sensation; then a surprised and almost exasperated laugh escaped her as she began to mount greatly once more. Between laughs there were moans and shouts of delight that made Minerva smile through the succulent flesh she was devouring. Hermione's hands plunged deeply into her lovers bun, pulling her closer and massaging her scalp.

"Oh, yes! Minerva!" Hermione laughed and moaned, rocking her hips deliciously.

More suddenly than the first, her orgasm hit her like a wall, and screaming shortly she collapsed onto the bed. Her seed spread generously across the duvet and onto Minerva's hand that was stroking her thighs and wet flesh gently and teasingly. Minerva released her thumbs slowly and kissed Hermione's wiry curls, smoothing her slender hands gratefully over the young woman's hips.

Lazily, Hermione lifted her arms and stretched them toward Minerva, curving her middle fingers into her palm several times.

"Minerva... here..." She whispered inaudibly, dropping her arms heavily as Minerva shifted upward, laying her body over Hermione's.

The young woman beneath her smiled broadly, her eyes sparkling with emotion as she ran her hands up and down Minerva's back. The eldest woman smiled back stupidly, running her nose across her lovers slowly and finally resting her lips upon the haven that was Hermione's mouth.

"Everything ok my dearest?" Minerva whispered, pushing back a fly away hair from Hermione's brow.

Her lover beamed ever wider, nodding her head fervently and breathing a quiet '_Yes_' onto the elders face. She seemed to squirm under Minerva's body and discomfort flashed fleetingly across her face, so kissing her quickly Minerva rolled off of Hermione who immediately pushed herself upward onto the pillows.

"Oh, now, that's better..." Hermione sighed, sinking into the pillows.

However, she beckoned for Minerva's closeness immediately, who too sat upright against the pillows and placed her hand across Hermione's. They both stared at the door for some time, silence filling the room with a density of unanswered questions. Minerva resumed stroking Hermione's foot with her own, and feeling the chill that was imbedded into her lovers toes, she summoned a blanket from the cupboard.

"Where now, Minerva?" Hermione asked quietly.

Minerva had been busying herself in laying the blanket over and under Hermione's feet; the question had hit her harder than she had imagined, especially as she too had been thinking this herself.

"Well, that would be up to you, Hermione." Minerva smiled falsely, once again fiddling with the blanket to avoid eye contact.

Hermione's hand shot out with force and purpose, but rested with aching tenderness over Minerva's busy hands.

"Minerva, I have already told you: I love you. I have loved you for almost three months. I... I don't want to go anywhere." Hermione stated.

Minerva looked slowly up into the deep brown eyes she knew so well, seeing them radiate with love and truth.

"I love you too Hermione; and I certainly don't want you going anywhere." Minerva said.

Hermione smiled briefly, looking down into her lap.

"But I'm your student, Minerva, and you're my teacher. We can't parade ourselves around Hogwarts... If anyone were to find out you would lose your job and I ca-"

"Hermione, that is for me to worry about." Minerva said authoritatively, bringing herself closer to Hermione and cupping her face.

"But I do worry too." Hermione whispered.

Minerva kissed the creamy cheek of her lover.

"I know love, but trust me." Minerva said softly and fondly.

"I do trust you, Min. But your job is your life, everyone including me knows that: You're the Transfiguration teacher, head of Gryffindor house and Deputy Headmistress. These are things I can't ignore. Being with me, you risk sacrificing it all."

Hermione's eyes were round and glassy as she looked at Minerva, her fingers running circles over the elder's palm.

"Hermione," The eldest woman began. "Albus and I have been dear friends for many years. Much before you were even thought of being born. He is the one person who knows the most about me, and I can confide in him anything knowing he will give the upmost confidentiality. I am sure if I explain to Albus that both you and I are consented in this relationship, and that we promise to keep it professional whilst I am teaching and you are studying, then a problem will not arise in this circumstance. It would become a problem if I kept it from him, and questions would be asked as to why I had remained you a secret: I don't want you a secret, Hermione. I want him to know. Not everyone – I think it wise we keep ourselves to ourselves, like most couples. However, I want to be able to be with you. We will carry on as we have been at school; no one has picked up on it yet."

Hermione smirked briefly, thinking fleetingly of Harry on the sofa with his arms wrapped around himself as he mockingly performed the two women's kissing scene.

"Promise me you won't worry yourself with such thoughts any longer?" Minerva pleaded quietly, stroking Hermione's cheek with her thumb that was still rested in the elders hand.

Hermione nodded and smiled, bring Minerva's hand to her lips and pressing them firmly against the smooth skin.

"And, even if I did lose my job, you'd be first Hermione. I'd give it all up for you." Minerva whispered.

Without warning, Hermione threw herself at Minerva, wrapping her arms tightly around her lover and kissing her ear between silent tears. She felt overwhelmed that anyone would even consider doing this, let alone risking it or even actually doing it.

Once attaining composure, wiping her cheeks quickly with the back of her hand, she released herself from Minerva's grip and came eye to eye with the woman she loved. She smiled gently, moving on.

"Minerva... May I ask you something?" Hermione enquired shyly.

"Of course dearest, you know you can." Minerva replied, hands gently on Hermione's waist.

Sighing, Hermione continued.

"Why do you always wear your hair up?"

Minerva's mouth twitched momentarily into a smirk, and then she regained herself.

"How many versions have you heard?" Minerva asked coyly.

Hermione darted her eyes downward.

"Not many... Just a few really..." She said quietly.

Minerva smiled, knowing Hermione was lying to be kind.

"Horror stories, I've no doubt?"

"Perhaps..."

Hermione's eyes wandered around the room awkwardly; perhaps she shouldn't have asked Minerva after all...

"The rumour that I was really bald and this was a wig was particularly nasty." Minerva smirked.

"I protested against that one!" Hermione remarked sternly, her eyes aflame with aggression.

Minerva laughed quietly and kissed Hermione swiftly, which got the elder a confused look.

"You really want to know the big secret?" Minerva asked, and Hermione nodded. "Very well. Hermione, as we all know, it is a great dream of yours to become a teacher. You will, at some stage, require your very own set of teaching robes. Yes, they look smart and I have to admit they are very comfortable for a long hard days work, however; you will soon come to realise they are stiflingly hot. Especially if, like me, you enjoy the finer things and request them in velvet. I learnt my very first day of teaching at Hogwarts that dark green velvet teaching robes, a Transfiguration room in which the suns rays beat from 12pm until 9pm for four months throughout the summer, and waist length hair that is so thick the magic '_never will break'_ brush I got handed at sixteen years old snapped the first time I used it, probably wasn't such a good combination. I went back to my room briefly before my next lesson, and because I had never worn my hair up before I had nothing but a quill on my dressing table. So, improvising, I wound my hair into a bun, stuck the quill through it and I was a lot cooler and comfortable for the rest of the day. The quill was replaced with hairpins I bought in Hogsmeade the next day. After that, it became habit that my hair was up."

Minerva pursed her lips together earnestly, nodding slowly as she looked at Hermione.

"Bit disappointing?" She added.

"A tad." Hermione answered truthfully.

They both fell about laughing, hardly being able to breathe. Each woman held tightly to the other as their giggles faded into soft '_Oh's_' of delight.

"Can I?" Hermione asked, reaching behind Minerva's head and catching a pin in each thumb and index finger.

"Of course."

Hermione breathed deeply, taking each pin carefully and withdrawing them from Minerva's hair; Nothing. Still in its standard tightness was Minerva's hair. So, placing them aside, Hermione fumbled for another two pins; still nothing. Then once again, she looked for two more... then another two... and another...

"I did say it was thick!" Minerva warned.

But after the twenty-sixth hair pin, Hermione felt something budge. Smiling gently, the young woman's hand resided from Minerva's scalp bringing two pins with her. Minerva's hair cascaded swiftly around her shoulders, and the elder woman closed her eyes as it did so, shaking her head slightly. The tips sat curved upward on the blanket, and this is where Hermione began her exploration.

She fingered the soft hair delicately between her digits, the ends darkened brown, almost a black shade. Toward the middle section, Minerva's hair began to curl in waves from the bun she had inhabited apparently for many many years and was a chestnut colour, much like Hermione's. Toward the top, greying began to weave through with hints of white; however the shine was of none other that Hermione had seen before in any woman's hair. She took a full fist into each hand and held it gently, feeling its warmth and softness.

Then she looked to Minerva, who still had her eyes closed and was smiling weakly. She truly did radiate beauty, especially now as she sat so naked, so relaxed and a complete lifetime away from the _Professor McGonagall _that everyone knew. And she, Hermione, was privileged enough to experience this woman in all of her true and wonderful glory.

"We can do this, can't we?" Hermione whispered.

Opening her eyes slowly, Minerva took Hermione's face into her hands, looking wondrously into those beautiful and deep brown eyes. Minerva ran her hands through the young woman's hair kissing her lovingly and tenderly, as she always had before, and all without so much of an utter of a word; but Hermione knew, without a doubt, her answer.

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><p><em>AN: Please let this be ok? Please Please?_

_PS TBC, more to come guys promise :)  
><em>


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